All My Little Words
by Resmiranda
Summary: The darkest places are the places of the heart, and the darkest desires are those we don’t know ourselves. The gang faces a new threat from Naraku – one that can destroy the bonds of affection and forever change their relationships. [DISCONTINUED]
1. Chapter One: How to Fight Loneliness

 SEQ CHAPTER \h \r 1**Disclaimer: I don't own Inuyasha.  I just own an empty six-pack of soda.  It's worth sixty cents in a state I don't live in.  Oh well.**

**Summary: The darkest places are the places of the heart, and the darkest desires are those we don't know ourselves.  The gang faces a new threat from Naraku – one that can destroy the bonds of affection and forever change their relationships.**

**Spoilers: Very late in the manga.  Basically an AU continuation of the series beginning at the end of manga volume 33, chapter 326.  Why?  I don't like rats.  I'm avoiding them.**

**Warnings: Haha!  Darkfic and unresolved sexual tension are like bread and butter to me.  This fic deals with some dark themes, and has more pairings, both canon and non-canon, than you'd be wise to shake a stick at.  Yes.  Lots and lots of pairings, some blatant, some implied.  If you're looking for fluffy Inu/Kag action, this is not the place for you.****__**

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**Credits: The title comes from the song _All My Little Words by The Magnetic Fields.  It seemed appropriate._**

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**_All My Little Words_**

**by******

**_Resmiranda_**

**Chapter One: How to Fight Loneliness**

_"The first thing that you want_

_will_ be the last thing you ever need."_****_

_  –**Wilco, **__How to Fight Loneliness_

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**_***_**

In a field of late summer flowers, Higurashi Kagome dreamed...

_... of waking up.  Her eyes open to the brilliant blue sky, dusted lightly with clouds, and out of the corner of her eye she can see the rich, verdant green of the treetops where the forest meets the meadow.  The sky looks so close, she can almost touch it.  Just a few outstretched fingers, and it will be within her reach – she could drop into it, fall forever into space, and leave behind her troubles._

_A pitch and roll in the pit of her stomach, so much like falling down the well, and she shakes her head violently.  No,__ she thinks.  That would leave... _her thoughts trail off, burning for a finish, something to latch onto that would complete them, ... _leave them, too.  I couldn't do that.  _A movement makes her turn her head, and there they are, standing and staring at her lying in the grass: Sango, Kirara, Miroku, Shippou, and... Inuyasha.  Kagome smiles in the eternal serenity of the moment, doesn't want it to end, a smile plastered on her face, but in her soul, she cries, hoping, praying to hold their faces forever in her heart...__

_Then, one by one, they turn, and disappear without a glance backwards, and Kagome is left alone in a field of flowers that cloy and suffocate, the thick pollen creeping down her throat, filling her lungs like glue, slowing her heart.  She can't breathe, cannot breathe, and high above her the sky yawns open, into the empty spaces of thought and memory, tumbling her into darkness, perfectly still – _

Kagome awoke with a gasp, eyes flying open, heart pounding against her ribcage like a frightened bird, seeking release.

In front of her eyes, Shippou blinked curiously.

Abruptly, she sat up, sending the kitsune tumbling head over heels.  "Wah!  Kagome!" he squealed in protest, his little feet kicking uselessly at the air as he rolled a little way down the hill.

Kagome pressed a hand to her chest and took a deep breath, struggling to hide the fear and trying to right the landscape in front of her.  Slowly the world was asserting itself on her conscious mind again, and Kagome shook herself a little, unwilling to let her friend see her in such a state of panic.  "Shippou-chan," she scolded, "it's not very nice to loom over someone while they are asleep.  I nearly jumped out of my skin!"  She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to forget the dream, but her blood was like ice water in her veins and the hand splayed across her sternum was trembling ever so slightly.

When she opened her eyes again, Shippou was further down the gentle slope, and appeared to think about this, pursing his lips and staring at the clouds.  It took him so long to respond that Kagome wondered if he hadn't started watching the birds rather than formulating a thought.  "I think that would be funny to see," he finally ruled.

"Shippou-chan!" she exclaimed.  "I wouldn't look very nice with no skin!"  Shippou just giggled in response before bounding back toward her.  Kagome braced herself for a flying hug, but instead he flew right past her and dove into her giant yellow backpack, no doubt in search of something sweet to munch on.  Kagome let him.  She was still off balance and didn't have the heart to tell him to not go through her things.  

Kagome could feel her heart begin to slow, and the adrenaline that had washed through her limbs left her feeling weak and trembling just a bit.  She took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of spring all around her, sucking in the beautiful warm air and letting it calm her soul, while in her backpack Shippou muttered to himself about candy.  Kagome smiled indulgently – it was always so refreshing to see Shippou, who had suffered so much and who lived in such a violent world, revelling in the joys of childhood – joys that she had never given much thought to when she was younger, but now realized the luxuries she had been afforded.  Of course, always thinking about children, and Shippou, and her own childhood, Kagome was forcibly reminded of her mother.

_Mama...  So far away in time and space.  Recently, every time she thought of home, Kagome felt a stab of blue steel through her heart, and she turned her head away from the little fox kit so that he would not accidentally see her face._

A cool breeze blew across her skin, drying the sweat of fear that had bubbled up as she dreamed, and she lifted a hand to brush it away before anyone saw and sighed inaudibly.  She wished her mother or grandfather were here so that she could tell them about the dreams that had been increasing in frequency and intensity every time she closed her eyes.

At first they had seemed innocuous, even silly.  She would be standing on the edge of a cliff and next to her stood the silver-haired hanyou.  They would be speaking and then he would brush against her – so innocently, it was just an accident – and she would lose her balance and begin to fall into the grey air and toward the rocks below.  But she always woke up before she completed the fall, or before Inuyasha even had time to react.  And then she would be laughing with Miroku or Sango, and suddenly they would stop and their faces would grow hard and they would turn their backs on her, leaving her hurt and wondering what it was that she had said to cause them to be so angry with her.

Now, though, she dreamed of deliberate, angry gestures, and a never-ending emptiness spiralling in their wake.  No matter how she pleaded or cried, the shoulder was always turned, and the loss and loneliness would crash down like a wave sweeping her away as she stood stock still, unable to believe what was happening.

Kagome frowned at the ground and tried to think of when the dreams had started.  The frown melted away into a slight smile and she shook her head a little bit.  It was always so difficult to remember this sort of thing, because when something starts, one has no idea how long it will last.  But the first time she could remember – the very first – was right after she, Sango, and Miroku had been poisoned by Mukotsu of the Shichinin-tai.  She could remember so little except the pain and the overwhelming exhaustion.  Even now, trying to remember it, she had only little flashes of memory, dipping and surfacing like silver fish in a stream – the scowling face of Inuyasha's brother, swift, flashing blades, the false monk that seemed so concerned and malevolent, and then flames and fire creeping in, closer and closer – and all the while, the dreams of emptiness and fear, knowing that as she lay dying, her friends could not help her, nor she them.

_No, she thought.  That had been a while ago now, and they had all been able to pull through and defeat the enemies in their path, and they would do it again.  __Positive thoughts, Kagome!  Don't be so negative!  Trying to rouse herself from the dark turn her thoughts had taken, Kagome sat up a little straighter and reached for the Shikon shard around her neck – the __last Shikon shard – and looked at it as it glowed in her fingers.  __All this, she thought.  __All this for power._  And now it's ours – mine – to protect._  Since she had been trying to cheer herself up, she had to admit that she had failed miserably.  Remembering that she had to guard such a precious piece of the jewel was a depressing thought._

She had been thinking of Kikyou more often, lately.  It was one thing to share a soul, but the memory of Kikyou, floating timelessly in a pool, and her own hands on her cracked and broken body was more urgent, more unsettling.  Even now, she could feel the miko's cold, inhuman skin slide beneath her fingers, could feel the power of her arrow against her palm.  All her power that was so pure and strong, whereas her own was so weak.  How could she protect the world with such weak hands?

Kagome wondered if Kikyou had felt the same way when she had first been entrusted with the sacred jewel.  Kagome was guessing not; after all, Kikyou's power was enormous, and could protect the jewel easily.  Even now, unbidden, the calm, gentle, untroubled face of the miko floated across her mind – when Kikyou was at rest, it was so difficult to envision that lovely, placid expression ever twisting into something angry or hateful or ugly, and if she hadn't seen it for herself Kagome would never have believed that Kikyou was capable of an unkind expression.  No, Kikyou had been a worthy protector of the sacred jewel.  Herself, on the other hand... well.

"Why the sad face, Kagome-sama?"

Kagome looked up.  Cresting the hill behind her was Miroku, staff in hand, and a soft but questing smile on his face, though Kagome was not at all convinced by his innocent act.  He may have proposed to Sango, but it was probably too much to hope that he had ceased his lecherous ways; in a strange part of her mind, Kagome decided it was comforting to think that he wouldn't change, although Sango most likely did not hold the same opinion.  Kagome let the shard drop smoothly back under her shirt and stood up, brushing her skirt free of clinging grass and wracking her brains swiftly, trying to think of a response that wasn't as disheartening as what she was really thinking.

"Miroku-sama – "

Suddenly the kitsune's voice cried out.  "Pocky!"  Shippou suddenly squealed with obvious delight.  "Chocolate pocky!"  He leapt out of Kagome's backpack and ran in very small, tight circles, waving the packet of pocky high over his head, and, unable to contain himself in his overwhelming joy, turned into a pink balloon.  Kagome giggled.

"I was just worried that Shippou-chan wouldn't find the candy I was saving for him," she said, turning to the monk.  She hoped he bought it – she was a terrible liar.  But Miroku smiled at her as Shippou transformed back into his old self, still literally bouncing with happiness.

"Ah," he replied, "Kagome-sama, you have such a kind heart."

Kagome blushed, feeling mildly dirty for lying to him.  "Thank you, Miroku-sama," she said, looking away.

"Keh."

Kagome felt that familiar flip in her chest whenever she heard that voice – she hadn't even known he had been there, listening to her and watching her.  It made her feel slightly giddy.  She and her companion looked around in surprise before locating Inuyasha perched in the branches of a tree only a little ways away.  Kagome bristled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, unconsciously adopting a defiant posture, spreading her feet, placing her hands on her hips and leaning forward, challenging.  Slightly behind her, Miroku tried not to notice what her posture was doing to her little kimono.  Inuyasha mumbled something unintelligible.

Kagome stamped her foot.  "What?" she said angrily.

Inuyasha sighed.  "I _said,_ you never bring _me_ any pocky."  His face was pulled into a horrible pout.

"Inuyasha, I bring you ramen _all the time," Kagome said loudly.  "Don't say I don't bring you anything!"_

The hanyou jumped lightly out of the tree.  "Not lately!" he shot back.

"Ooooh!" Kagome fumed, all tender thoughts engendered by the dream quickly fleeing.  "I haven't been able to go _home_ lately!  In case you'd forgotten, there haven't been any Shikon shards around for me to go home with!" she squeaked.  "And besides, I have more ramen for you!"  Kagome bent over and looked for the extra cups that she knew she had stashed somewhere in the bottom of her bag.  Behind her, the monk looked at the... trees.  Or tried to, anyway.

Inuyasha, however, was not impressed.  "Keh.  S'not pocky, is it?"

"Now, now, Inuyasha – " Miroku began, admonishingly.  Experience told him that he could probably not head this scenario in a different direction, but he tried valiantly anyway.

"She never brings _you any pocky, does she?" Inuyasha suddenly demanded, arms crossed defiantly._

In spite of himself, Miroku was brought up short.  "Hmm," he said.  "No, she doesn't.  I wonder why."  He laid one long finger on his chin and appeared to ponder this great mystery of the universe.

"That's what I thought."

"Gah!"  Kagome dramatically threw her hands up in the air and whirled around, refusing to look at her infuriating companions any more.  She just might do something she would regret.

"You can have some of mine, Inuyasha," came Shippou's voice.  Kagome could see the little fox-kit in her mind's eye, giving Inuyasha a huge smile and offering him the smallest piece of candy in the packet.  It was all so comfortingly predictable.  Kagome started to count backwards in her mind.  _Ten... nine... eight..._

Behind her, Shippou squealed.  

_...seven... six..._

"I said _some,_ you greedy jerk, not _all_!"

_...five..._

"You've been getting pocky from day one, you little brat!  Time to share!"

_...four... three... two... one, she finished._

"KAGOMEEEEE!"  _Right on cue._

It was always the same story.  It was a comforting, if bizarre, familiarity that allowed this sort of drama to play out over and over again.  Kagome suppressed the smile that threatened to tug at her lips and betray her strange contentment and turned around to see the hanyou holding the tiny kitsune at bay with one hand while he devoured the candy with the other.

"Inuyasha..."

Inuyasha froze, eyes widening.  _He really should be used to this by now,_ Kagome thought to herself, mildly amused.

"Osuwari."

His face plunged toward the dirt, and Shippou and his pocky went flying in opposite directions.  After several bounces along the grass, Shippou managed to right himself and land on his feet, digging small furrows into the ground where he landed.

"Heh!  Serves you right!" he exclaimed, dashing past Inuyasha's prone figure to grab the pocky, which was laying in the dust.  Kagome grimaced slightly, thinking of how sanitary the candy was now, but reasoned that since Shippou was, technically, a demon, then the germs that were on the candy now probably wouldn't hurt him very much.  Kagome shook her head and sank back to the ground, smiling slightly as Inuyasha made a noise of displeasure and turned his back to her.  She was looking for his ramen when she heard Miroku speak again from behind her.

"Kagome-sama?" he asked.  She turned to look at him.

"Will you be returning to your country soon?" he continued.  "Now that you have the Shikon fragment?"

Kagome frowned.  "I don't know.  I want to, but part of me says that we're really close to the end of our quest.  I'm not sure if it would be wise to go back home now."

"Do you want to?"

Kagome laughed a little bit.  "I do."

"Idiot," Inuyasha said without turning around.  "You can go back.  We'll be fine without you, since there aren't any more shards to find."

Kagome was unsure as to what to say to that.  "You don't want me here?" she asked.  Her heart was twisting a little painfully, even though she told herself it was silly.

"I didn't say that!" Inuyasha exclaimed.  "Geez, you are so quick to jump to conclusions!"

"Then it's settled!" she said.  "I'll stay."

Miroku cleared his throat.  "Are you sure?" he asked her.  Kagome could see the doubt in his face, swirling just below the surface.

Kagome hesitated, and tilted her head.  _I want to see Mama and Grandpa and Souta again... but..._  There was a deep, persistent tugging in the pit of her stomach.  Something was pulling her, telling her to stay with her friends, and Kagome clenched her hands together, worrying her thumbs a little bit.  If she were to be completely honest with herself, she was worried that if she left, there would be no one to come back to.  She felt ten times better than she did not half an hour ago when she had awoken from her dream, but her skull still felt a little dusty and cobwebby, as though the empty spaces of her dreams were clinging to the inside of her mind, ready to invade her life, ready to steal her companions away.

_But that's silly, she thought.  _Isn't it?  They'll still be here.__

_Of course they will._

_But I still don't want to go._

Kagome turned a bright smile to the monk.  "No, Miroku-sama, I think I'm happy to be with you guys.  I can go home later, right?"

Miroku nodded.  "Of course," he said, though his eyes still looked troubled.

Kagome's brow furrowed.  "Miroku-sama?  Are you all right?"

"Well," he said, drawing out the word and looking uncertain.

Kagome waited.  "Yes?" she finally prompted.

Miroku shrugged.  "Well, I was hoping to get some pocky of my own, but alas, I can see it is not meant to be yet."

Kagome hit him with a cup of ramen.

*          *          *

Several miles away, something moved in a tree, high above the ground.

A small mouse, scurrying across the forest floor, suddenly halted as primal fear bolted down its tiny spine, causing it to freeze.

If the thing in the tree had been human, it would have smiled.  All around it was a cacophony of life, silently buffeting its senses, and the quicksilver horror that coursed through the creature below it filled it with joy.  If it had a tongue, it would have thought the fear of the little rodent tasted sweet.

The mouse was petrified.  Above it, something slid off a branch, and made its way down the mighty trunk.

If it had been an animal, it would have slithered.

The mouse never had a chance.

There was no noise.  Nothing happened for a long moment, until, very slowly, the mouse tipped over, dead.

The thing from the tree writhed with what could only be described as a cruel joy.  It had only taken a few lives so far, but each one coursed through it, filling it up with energy, making it a hundred times more powerful than it had been when it was born, only an hour ago.

It was _good_, this feeling.  It _hungered – no, _craved_ the spirits all around it that scuttled and flew and crawled and dashed through the forest.  Only small things could feel its presence at the moment, but that would change, when enough had been sucked dry.  And when it was strong enough, it would move onto its true objective._

If it had possessed a head, it would have lifted its nose to the wind, smelling the breeze so fraught with scent and sound.  But it had no body, and it was not limited by such a dismal prison as the prison of flesh; all that contained it was its own mind, and to something so free, even the quiet whisper of thoughts, even the gentle fragrance of feelings wafted on the currents of air.  It could smell its target, but it was nothing if not patient.  Only a few more hours, and it would be strong enough to take what it truly needed.

A small fox kit passing by was suddenly and inexplicably gripped with terror.  In all its young life, it had never sensed something so malevolent as what it could sense now.  Slowly, it turned its ears and nose this way and that, trying to find what was causing his paws to tremble and his heart to race, but there was nothing.  

Nothing at all.

It began to run.

If it had been human, it would have smiled.  Instead, it sprang.

It was _good._

*          *          *

The wolf prince was having issues with finding dinner, and his loyal comrades were being their normal helpful selves.  He was beginning to develop a truly royal headache.

Kouga barely refrained from rubbing his temples with his forefingers, and settled for glaring daggers at Ginta and Hakkaku.  It wasn't that they were _bad at hunting __per se, but in a forest so devoid of life even he was having problems picking up a useful trail, and he couldn't help but feel that they were holding him back just a little bit._

_Hmph, he thought, absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck where his hackles had risen.  _This forest gives me the creeps._  If he were completely honest with himself, he would admit to just wanting to find something to eat and getting the hell out of there, but necessity drove them here, and pride anchored him to his course.  Normally he wouldn't have ventured within a hundred yards of a place that was so bizarrely quiet, but his pack members were starving and he needed to do something to relieve the pains gnawing at his abdomen._

"Kouga..." Hakkaku began.

Kouga groaned, waiting for an annoying suggestion of some sort to spill out, and rubbed his forearm lightly before realizing the unconscious gesture and yanking his hand away.  The forest was _really getting to him._

"Ano..." Hakkaku stumbled over his words.

Kouga narrowed his eyes.

"Shouldn't we go hung somewhere else?" Ginta suggested quickly.  He and Hakkaku were standing extremely close together, peering into the deepening shadows of the evening anxiously.  They both seemed nervous, and the few wolves they had with them had tucked their tails low as they gazed around, ears flat against their heads.

_Even they're nervous, Kouga realized.  A slight breeze rustling through the leaves made him jump slightly._

_Damn.  The place was making him downright twitchy._

"Keh," he replied, sounding more confident than he felt.  "We won't find anything in this place anyway."  He dug his heels in and took off back the way they'd come, leaving his hapless followers to groan with chagrin in his dust as they tried their level best to follow him.

Something watched them go, satisfied.

It had found a vessel.

_Soon, it thought.  __So soon.___

*          *          *

Hakkaku and Ginta, having found a nest of weasels and contented themselves with those, slept while Kouga, sitting on the nearby riverbank, envied them their comfort, but made no move to wake them.  They weren't as strong as he was, and even though that sometimes became a nuisance, it would be cruel to hold it against them, even though the unseasonably warm night was making his limbs heavy and his muscles relax into an uncharacteristic slump.  The prince had elected to stay awake and keep watch for the night, but he couldn't sense any danger nearby and instead was compelled to entertain himself by watching the water flow by, floating the moon along its surface.

Unfortunately, he was less inclined to appreciate the beauty of the night as he was in the middle of losing the valiant struggle against melancholy that was threatening to pull him down.  It had been a while since he had nearly been absorbed by that bastard, Naraku, but Kouga wanted to roar with rage and frustration each time he thought about it.  It was almost too much to bear, knowing that the smug asshole was still floating around out there in the world, while most of his tribe slumbered, cold and dead, in the earth.  It made his claws itch just thinking about his unfulfilled revenge, but there was little he could do.  He didn't know where his enemy was hiding now, and he hadn't seen Kagome since he'd realized...

Kouga squeezed his eyes shut quickly, trying to block out that particular trail of thought, but once begun, he had to follow it to the inevitable conclusion.

...since he'd realized that she was completely hung up on that stupid mutt.  Just thinking about it made him want to break something – preferably that damn hanyou's face – but that wouldn't do anything but possibly bruise his hand.  Nothing would be achieved.  

Dropping his head between his hands, he sighed quietly.  He might as well face it: there was nothing he could do about Kagome's feelings.  If she insisted on staying with that stinking mongrel, he'd have to...

...dammit, win her some other way.

His hand snaked down into the cold water, brought up a handful, and splashed the freezing liquid over his face, jolting himself a little bit.  He was getting too absorbed in his thoughts, which was always a bad thing for a sentinel to do, and Kouga scanned the area quickly, subtly sniffing the air and letting his eyes travel over the landscape, looking for anything out of the ordinary.  A youkai attack, or a bear, or _anything really, would be a welcome distraction from the annoying turns his thoughts were taking._

Unfortunately, the surrounding trees entirely failed to produce something to beat up – just his luck.  Kouga slowly leaned back against a large boulder and gently banged his head against it, going on the assumption that it was better than thinking about his failures, and also that it would feel good when he stopped.

Kouga had just been pleasantly surprised to find that the rhythmic thumping had been soothing in its own way when all the hair on his body stood on end.

He didn't even stop to think, leaping to his feet so quickly that his head spun and turning his back to the river.  Flashes of instinct, barely formed thoughts, scorched across his mind.  __

_...back to the water, less likely attack, where, where, what, where, no scent, what, where..._

He couldn't smell anything untoward, but there was _something _out there.

"_Hakkaku!__  Ginta!" he hissed urgently.  He whipped around on the balls of his feet, scraping them against the ground, but the slight pain hardly registered.  Tingles rioted up and down his spine, like a thousand tap-dancing fingers, and he suppressed a shudder.  Frantically he ran his gaze over the rocks and trees and river.  He couldn't see anything, even with the help of the moon's light._

His faithful companions were standing back-to-back the next time he turned to look at them, both of them bleary-eyed and slightly worse for the wear, but at least they were awake and struggling to alertness.

"What is it, boss?" Ginta asked, clearly on edge.

Whatever it was, it was watching him.  Kouga felt his skin crawl.  "I don't know," he replied sharply.  "Can you feel it?"

Hakkaku shivered and nodded.  "Feels cold," he whispered.

The whisper sounded like a shout.  Dimly, over the thundering of the blood in his veins, Kouga became aware that it was as silent as a tomb.  As silent as that creepy forest.  The muscles in his legs twitched, wanting to run, run, run from that spot, run _away, but he had no idea which direction __away actually was.  The horrible feeling crept in from all sides, and there was no where to go to escape.  The wolf prince felt the first white hot twinges of fury deep in his chest._

Something was toying with him, and he didn't appreciate it one bit.

"K-Kouga – " Ginta stuttered, looking around wildly.

It was as if something was staring at him, straight through his skull and into his mind.  _Straight through my skull... straight through the _back_ of my skull..._

Kouga whipped around.

Nothing.

He whirled around again.

A silent grove of trees, a windswept sky, a sullen moon.  Nothing more.

A sudden gasp, from either Hakkaku or Ginta, and his entire left side tingled as time slowed down, and Kouga turned toward the river, a cry caught in his throat – 

*          *          *

"Kagome-chan?"  Sango's voice cut through her sudden trance, bringing her back down to earth with a sudden jolt.  No matter how many times it happened, Kagome had never become used to the sense of something _outside of her affecting her reactions.  She smiled ruefully at Sango._

"Shikon shards," she replied.  "Coming this way.  Two of them."

"Keh," said Inuyasha.

Miroku just smirked.

"Ah," said Sango.  "That would be Kouga, right?"  On her shoulder, Kirara mewled.

Kagome just nodded.

"I don't want to meet with that wimpy wolf,"

"Inuyasha!" Kagome admonished.

He just grunted and kept his back to her.  "Keh.  After what happened last time, I can't believe he'd even think of showing his face around here!"

"He really is impossible," Sango whispered to Miroku for the two hundred and seventeenth time.  Miroku nodded sagely, as always.

"Hey!" Inuyasha whirled around.  "Don't think I can't hear you guys!"  Sango just gave him a look.

Kagome, for her part, was gazing behind her, waiting for Kouga to catch up with them.  She didn't have to wait long.  A few seconds later and the wolf youkai skidded to a stop ten yards away.

"Yo!" he greeted, waving his hand.

Kagome smiled as he moved toward her.  "Good morning, Kouga-kun!" she replied.  "How have you been?"

Before he could reply, Inuyasha stepped between them.

Kouga scowled.  "I have business with Kagome, mutt.  Get out of my way."

"Hmph," Inuyasha replied.  "Like she'd want to talk to _you_."

_Honestly, this is getting a little old, Kagome thought to herself.  She neatly sidestepped her companion, and addressed Kouga directly.  "What do you need, Kouga-kun?" she asked._

"Kagome," he returned, gathering her hands in his, causing her to blush like always.  "I need to talk to you."

"So talk!" Inuyasha yelled from behind her.

The wolf glared at him.  "Alone," he said pointedly.

"Yeah, right."

"Inuyasha!" Kagome groaned.  "It's okay.  Kouga-kun, we can talk over there, behind those trees.  Okay?"

Kouga smiled down at her warmly.  "Thank you, Kagome."  As Kagome began to walk away, the demon followed her, pausing only to glance back over his shoulder and smirk at his rival.

Inuyasha fumed.

Miroku drew up to his side and patted him on the shoulder.  "It will be all right, Inuyasha," he said reassuringly.  "Kagome-sama would never treat you the way you treat her."

"What's THAT supposed to mean, lech?"

Miroku smiled, waving a hand placatingly.  "Nothing!  Nothing at all.  I didn't even say anything, did I?"

Sango rolled her eyes.  At least the yelling would drown out whatever Kagome and Kouga were talking about, so no one would be tempted to eavesdrop.

Unfortunately, it was a full five minutes before Inuyasha calmed down enough to realize that Kagome had not yet returned.

"Where _is_ she?" he demanded, squinting at the trees where the wolf and the girl had disappeared, as though hoping to make them burst into flames by sheer willpower.

The little group fell silent, each member straining to hear.

Finally, Shippou spoke up.  "I don't hear anything!" he said.  "What are they doing?"

Inuyasha growled.  "I don't know.  But I have an idea."  Rumbling obscenities under his breath, the hanyou stalked the fifty yards over to the grove of trees where he had last seen the couple go.

There was a tense, drawn out moment.

"KAGOME!"

Within a second, the rest of the group burst through the foliage to see a stunned Inuyasha standing in the middle of the clearing.  It was deserted, except for him.

"Where is she?" Shippou squealed.  "KAGOMEEEE!"

Inuyasha had dropped to his hands and knees, inhaling a good amount of dust in his desperation to seek out Kagome's scent.

"I'm not sure!" he cried, moving aimlessly.  "Her scent's all over!"

"Why didn't Kagome-chan call for us?" Sango demanded.

Miroku looked troubled.  "There's only one way."

Inuyasha leapt to his feet.  "No.  No way.  She wouldn't do that.  She would tell us where she was going first, right?"

Miroku shrugged, clearly puzzled and a little upset.  "Maybe."

Eyes wide and already filling with tears, Shippou voiced what everyone was thinking.  "You mean... she left us?"

Looking at the ground in front of him, unmarred by any sort of struggle, Miroku shook his head.

"It seems that way."


	2. Chapter Two: Your First Reaction

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Inuyasha. If I did, there'd be a whole lot more sex, and possibly a chorus line.  
  
**Summary:** The darkest places are the places of the heart, and the darkest desires are those we don't know ourselves. The gang faces a new threat from Naraku - one that can destroy the bonds of affection and forever change their relationships.  
  
**Chapter Summary:** Ginta ponders his aversion to fish, Kagome gets intensely interested in trees, Kouga apparently got into the sake, and evil is still totally afoot.  
  
**Spoilers:** Very late in the manga. Basically an AU continuation of the series beginning at the end of manga volume 33, chapter 326. Why? I don't like rats. I'm avoiding them.  
  
**Warnings:** Haha! Darkfic and unresolved sexual tension are like bread and butter to me. This fic deals with some dark themes, and has more pairings, both canon and non-canon, than you'd be wise to shake a stick at. Yes. Lots and lots of pairings, some blatant, some implied. If you're looking for fluffy Inu/Kag action, this is not the place for you.  
  
**Credits:** The title comes from the song All My Little Words by The Magnetic Fields. It seemed appropriate.  
  


**_All My Little Words_**  
**by**  
**_Resmiranda_**  
**Chapter Two: Your First Reaction**  
  


_"And I'll contest, but they won't listen  
when the casualty rate's near one hundred percent  
and there isn't a pension for second best  
of her heart..."_  
**– Death Cab for Cutie, _Company Calls Epilogue_**  
  
***  
  
Ginta peered over the edge of the embankment, hoping hopelessly that Kouga would be relaxing in the sun below. Of course, he would have no such luck – the ground below remained annoyingly free of the familiar shape of his chief. Behind him, Hakkaku's frustrated groan told him he wasn't the only one having problems finding their wayward leader.   
  
It's not that it was unusual for him to go off like this – Kouga had left them before, but usually he would give them a clue as to where he was going. Not that he had to tell them anything, of course – he was the leader, not they – but it still would have eased Ginta's mind, especially after last night.  
  
Ginta shook his head, going over the events in his mind. Even now in the warmth of the sun, he shivered, remembering the bone-chilling cold that had frozen him in place, searing straight down his spine and bypassing all rational thought. There was nothing in his mind but a white storm of fear. Standing back to back with Hakkaku, rooted to the spot, they had both felt _something..._ coming in from all sides, and then suddenly sharpening down, focussing, and then –  
  
There had been no time to do anything. That was the thing he remembered most; whatever it had been, it was _fast_, streaking across the clearing beyond the river, and then that presence, like a blade of ice, _leaping_.  
  
_There wasn't time for anything, not even thought. Kouga had barely turned his head when the roar in his chest was stillborn, twisted and strangled in his throat, and in the space of a heartbeat he had collapsed to his hands and knees, panting heavily. Ginta and Hakkaku stood dumbly, disbelieving. _How can anything be that fast? It's not possible!_ Ginta thought, and it seemed to take forever just to think. Each moment after witnessing such speed seemed like a lifetime, drawing out forever, an endless span of time...  
  
"Kouga!" Hakkaku had suddenly cried, his legs jerking slightly before bolting into action, and Ginta found that he, too, could move again, that whatever primordial terror had gripped him was now fading into the ghostly tremors of a post-adrenaline rush.   
  
Running toward their fallen pack leader had been like running through thick sap – Ginta thought his bones would break, and the air felt sticky and impossibly viscous, but even though it took an eternity, they finally reached Kouga's side. His eyes were squeezed shut, and his breath came out in heavy spurts as he struggled to fill his lungs with air, almost as if he had been choked. Hakkaku patted him firmly on the back. "Boss? You all right?" he'd asked.  
  
After a few tense moments, Kouga had pushed himself back on his heels and apparently had caught his breath, though his bright blue eyes were distant and unseeing. "I think so..." he'd replied before suddenly twisting and turning in place, inspecting himself suspiciously. "Yes, I think so," he said a second later, with more confidence.  
  
Ginta was relieved, but Hakkaku remained unconvinced. "You sure?"  
  
Kouga patted his hands against his armor and his bare legs, as if looking for injuries he just hadn't noticed yet. Finally, he'd given a firm nod. "Yes, I'm sure."  
  
"What was that?" Ginta blurted.  
  
Kouga shook his head. "I don't know," he'd said, "but I think it's gone."  
  
Ginta glanced around the clearing, his heightened senses straining to pick up some clue as to the whereabouts of the thing, but it appeared Kouga had been right – there was nothing out of the ordinary; where before even the landscape had seemed sinister, the world was oddly back to normal – almost as if the incident had never happened. A cricket had even started chirping, as if to say the danger had passed. He still hadn't slept very well._  
  
Unfortunately, even though whatever that thing had been was no longer with them, the memory had burned itself into Ginta's head, and try as he might he couldn't shake it. He still felt cold, even now, and Kouga wasn't around to reassure him with a smack across the head, or a well-placed insult to his intelligence. Kouga's absence was beginning to worry him, especially because his trail was so faint. He would be nearly impossible to track with such a light scent.  
  
Below him, the river flowed peacefully by. Ginta envied it – it must be nice to just float along without a care in the world, without having to worry about vengeance or food or missing pack leaders. He could get used to a life like that. On the other hand, if he were a river, he'd probably be full of fish, and that didn't sound very pleasant at all. Ginta sighed, shoulders slumping. He just couldn't win.  
  
"Oi, Ginta!"  
  
Hakkaku's voice cut through his reverie, and Ginta turned to see if his companion had found something that would help them find Kouga.  
  
He hadn't. Instead, Hakkaku pushed him into the river. Ginta surfaced with an earful of both mud and Hakkaku's hysterical laughter on the embankment above him.  
  
"Oi, what was that for?" he shouted angrily, scooping a minnow out of the crevices of his cochlea. He definitely didn't want to be a river, he decided. Fish were all well and good to eat, but live ones were just cold and wriggly and wholly unpleasant to have in one's private space.  
  
Hakkaku was crying with laughter. "Just... just to see... the _look_... on your _face!_" he gasped, wiping his nose on his arm.  
  
Ginta remained unimpressed. "Geez, and I didn't even do anything to deserve it," he whined, sloshing his way up the embankment.  
  
"I... know..." Hakkaku wheezed. "I just... needed to let off... some steam..." Ginta was disappointed that his comrade was regaining his breath. It would have been nice if he'd passed out from lack of oxygen and Ginta could have carried out a suitable revenge in peace. Still, he could sympathize – it had taken his mind off their troubles for a little bit, except now his troubles were compounded because he was both without a leader and cold and wet.  
  
He contented himself with shaking himself dry and getting Hakkaku damp in the bargain.  
  
"Well," he said, sitting down. "What do we do now?"  
  
Hakkaku shook his head. He was unused to doing the thinking – that was what Kouga was for, after all. "I dunno," he supplied.  
  
They sat in silence for a moment before Hakkaku was struck with near-genius inspiration.  
  
"Hey," he said, his tone of voice endeavoring to suggest that thinking of things was something he did all the time and not just on alternate Tuesdays, "what if we find Kagome-san? She might know where Kouga is!"  
  
Ginta blinked. "Good idea!" he replied. "I wish I'd thought of that."  
  
Hakkaku shrugged as he clambered to his feet. "It was nothing," he said modestly.  
  
* * *  
  
The ground was bouncing by underneath Kouga's feet, but Kagome was not enjoying the view very much, even though the wolf prince did have disturbingly shapely legs. It was probably her own fault that he had thrown her over his shoulder rather than just carrying her in his arms like usual – who knew he would actually carry out his threat if she continued to struggle? – but that didn't make her feel any better about it. Her elbow was rubbed raw where she had propped it against his armor, but she didn't dare move it for fear that her nose would be the next thing to meet the thick metal. In front of her, where they'd been kept rapidly fading over the horizon. It was a thoroughly depressing sight, and she was getting an extreme case of _deja vu_. Why wasn't Sango ever kidnapped? Why did it have to be her? It seemed she was getting abducted every other week. Possibly she should think of having a secretarial service instated, so every time some dumb youkai wanted to snatch her away he had to make an appointment first.  
  
Silly musings about such things were only mildly comforting though, and Kagome found herself wishing that Inuyasha would find her; there was something very, very wrong with Kouga, and she was getting more and more worried by the minute. Normally, Kouga would never, ever have clamped his hand over her mouth and carried her off without even an explanation, but that was exactly what had happened. She had been so surprised that she hadn't even had the presence of mind to cry out – it was unthinkable that he would do such a thing, and so she had travelled for the first few moments in a state of shock and denial. It wasn't until they were well away from her friends that she realized something was really and truly out of place, and she'd started to get scared.  
  
Wresting his hand away from her mouth, she'd demanded, quite loudly, to know just what did he think he was doing?  
  
"We're getting away from that damn hanyou," he'd said. "I'm sick of having to deal with him every time I want some time with you."  
  
"Then why didn't you just _ask_ me?" she'd wanted to know.  
  
"Ha!" he'd replied. "Would you have said yes?"  
  
"Of course!"  
  
He'd simply shot her a look.  
  
"Well," she'd amended, "maybe."  
  
"See?" he'd said, as if that admission had proved his point and absolved him of basically abducting her.  
  
Kagome did not appreciate that. "Please put me down," she'd asked.  
  
"Keh," he'd retorted, sounding remarkably like Inuyasha when he was being difficult.  
  
"Kouga, put me down!"  
  
"No!"  
  
It was at that point that she'd started struggling. Kouga wasn't acting strangely – aside from the whole kidnapping part – but she still had a cold feeling of dread pooling in her stomach. She wanted to get away, and fear was starting to take over.  
  
"If you don't stop that, I'm throwing you over my shoulder," he'd bitten out angrily.  
  
"Fine!" she'd shot back, not letting up.  
  
So he had. Kagome was extremely put out.   
  
_Honestly,_ she thought, watching trees bounce by with no sign of Inuyasha or the others in the distance, _he didn't have to be so rough!_ Why couldn't every boy come with a subduing rosary? She was also feeling quite exposed – she wished that she'd worn something a little longer than her school uniform, which was currently threatening to aerate her nether regions and give Kouga more of an eyeful than he'd bargained for. Not that she thought he'd mind much – the point is that she would mind. A _lot._  
  
Which seemed to be the fundamental problem of their relationship, she mused, the sight of the rapidly retreating landscape making her more contemplative than usual for some reason. This was the problem with all their interactions. Kouga just _did_ things regardless of what she wanted, and it was a little irritating. His insistence that Kagome be with him rather than Inuyasha was upsetting, not least because she didn't want to hurt his feelings. If only he didn't seem to genuinely care about her, it would make her life a lot easier; she'd just turn him down flat and would let Inuyasha beat him up when he persisted, but she just couldn't when he displayed such concern and rescued her almost as often as Inuyasha did. Besides, it wasn't as if she had any other stellar offers on the table. Inuyasha may care for her, but he was always partially preoccupied with Kikyou. Still, at least he was jealous enough to rescue her from other suitors. Kagome scanned the horizon, looking for the familiar red of his haori. The horizon remained haori-free.  
  
Inuyasha, where are you? she thought despondently. There wasn't much she could do from this position except watch the increasingly tedious landscape with glazed eyes and try to forget the pain in her stomach where the youkai's well-muscled shoulder was pressing insistently. The skirt problem was one that she simply didn't have time to deal with, so she ignored it for the time being. Kagome started to count trees.  
  
She was up to two hundred and seventy-three trees when Kouga suddenly slowed and veered off the main path and into the thicket itself, narrowly avoiding a bramble bush that nevertheless caught her sleeve and ripped a small hole in it.  
  
"Hey!" she squealed indignantly as he swung her off his shoulder and placed her lightly on the ground. "These uniforms are expensive!" She held up her ruined sleeve.  
  
"I'm sorry, Kagome," Kouga said, not sparing her clothes a glance, but instead gazing down into her face. To her surprise, he really did sound sorry. She subsided a little bit, but she was still highly irritated by the entire situation.  
  
"Kouga, why did you drag me out here?" she demanded, trying to busy herself with dusting off her clothes; she didn't really want to look him in the eye. "Surely whatever you had to say could have been said back..." Kagome paused. To tell the truth, she was somewhat confused as to where she had been before, so she settled for waving a hand vaguely in the direction she thought they'd come from. He'd get the point.  
  
She looked up in time to see him slump his shoulders. "Don't you want to be with me?" he asked.  
  
Taken aback, she leaned in closer to him. "I didn't say that," she replied, somewhat flustered.  
  
Kouga, looking down at her, smiled as he took her hands in his own. She cast her eyes downward to see his fingers entwining with hers. Kagome could feel a flush start to thunder up her neck and advance across her face – his hands were burning hot, and even though she was trying to forget, she could still feel their imprint on her legs where he'd held her in place on his shoulder. She glanced up and gulped. He was looking at her strangely.  
  
"Kouga?" she asked.  
  
He leaned in closer. "Kagome..." he breathed.  
  
She took a quick step backwards. "Kouga, are you all right?" she demanded. He was staring at her intently. More so than usual, even, and his eyes shone brightly. She wondered if he was feverish, which would explain his strange behavior and burning hands, and so her concern for him was jockeying for dominance with her unease. After a few tense moments her concern for him won out, and she reached out to put a hand on his forehead, trying to take his temperature.  
  
Kouga had other ideas. Instead of welcoming her voluntary touch like he normally would, he recaptured her hand and closed them both in one of his own. A yelp escaped from her throat as she took another step backwards and nearly tripped over a tree root, which turned out to be a tactical error as his other arm suddenly snaked out and pulled her close.  
  
"Oh!" she cried, stumbling into him, her hands coming up to brace herself on his chest, a move which mortified her further.  
  
"Kouga! What's wrong with you?" she cried. She twisted a little, trying to reclaim her hands, but all her tugging was futile. Kouga's grip was like a vise.  
  
A grin appeared on his face, exposing his sharp teeth. Kagome squirmed. "Nothing's wrong with me, Kagome! I feel fine."  
  
"You aren't acting fine," she snapped. Distantly, she wondered if his fingers would leave bruises where they gripped her wrists.  
  
"But I _am_ fine. I feel great! Better than I ever have before!" He was grinning so wide that it looked like a grimace. Even his voice was beginning to sound strange, sending tiny sparks of fear dancing along the back of her neck.  
  
She stared up into his face, so close she could see the tiny imperfections of his skin and feel his feral breath on her cheek, and her heart began to beat faster. A tiny voice in the back of her head was screaming, telling her to run, but she fought the rising panic, stuffing it down inside, trying to hold back the fear that would blank her mind and cause her to do something stupid.  
  
"Kouga – "  
  
Releasing her wrists, he brought his fingers to her lips, silencing her. His skin was so hot, it seemed he might leave blisters where he touched her. Kagome forced her hands to stay still where they were.  
  
"Kagome, I have to ask you something important."  
  
She looked up into his eyes.  
  
He leaned inward.  
  
* * *  
  
"Why should we believe you?" Inuyasha was shouting as he punched Ginta in the stomach. Hakkaku already lay several feet away, face down in the dust and emitting strange sounds that sounded distinctly like whimpers. Sango was kneeling beside him.  
  
"Inuyasha!" she shouted. "Stop that! Act your age!"  
  
Inuyasha whirled around. "Hey!" he said, clearly affronted. "I'm not the one who's boss just kidnapped Kagome, am I? _They_ should be the ones explaining themselves to _us_, right?"  
  
Miroku sighed, and then hit the hanyou over the head with his staff in as dignified a manner as possible. "Perhaps they could, Inuyasha, if you would stop beating them long enough to get a word out," he added reproachfully.  
  
Raising a hand to the bump on his head, Inuyasha refused to answer. In front of him, Ginta wheezed for air.  
  
"R-really!" he gasped. "We thought nee-san would know where he is!"  
  
"Well, she does, because she's with him!" Inuyasha snapped, balling his hand into a fist as he prepared to punch Ginta across the face. Shippou, getting fed up with the whole thing, leapt from Miroku's shoulder and sank his teeth into the hanyou's hand.  
  
"OOOOOW!"  
  
Sango stepped neatly around the ensuing kerfluffle, pointedly ignoring the words spilling from Inuyasha's mouth and turning the air blue, and addressed Ginta. "Are you saying he just disappeared and didn't tell you where he was going?"  
  
Looking distinctly relieved to be talking to someone who didn't seem homicidally insane, Ginta nodded. "We woke up this morning, and he was gone. We can't follow his trail because it's really faint – "  
  
Inuyasha, who had subdued the mighty kitsune with a knock to the head, snorted. "That's impossible. He reeks."  
  
Ginta continued as if he hadn't heard the remark. " – so we followed Inuyasha's scent instead."  
  
Miroku snickered into the back of his hand as discreetly as possible. Inuyasha glared at him.  
  
Sango looked thoughtful. "We're following Kagome-chan's scent as well. Wherever she is, Kouga can't be far away, right?"  
  
Inuyasha didn't look as though he liked the sound of that.  
  
"Hmm," Ginta said. "We hadn't thought of that." Next to him, Hakkaku was climbing to his feet and trying in vain to dust himself off. Ginta looked at his partner, then appeared to reach a decision.  
  
"Right! We'll come with you!" he announced.  
  
"Hey! No one invited you!" Inuyasha snarled.  
  
"Inuyasha! Who cares if they come along!" snapped Shippou, rubbing his head where Inuyasha had left an enormous bump. _This would never have happened if Kagome were here,_ he thought, fighting down the tears that had sprung to his eyes. His scalp smarted, and he made a mental note to tell Kagome what Inuyasha had done – he could wait for his revenge.  
  
Miroku nodded sagely in agreement. "It would probably be good to have some of Kouga's companions along with us when we find him," he said, as if imparting great wisdom. He secretly hoped that Ginta and Hakkaku could diffuse the situation between Inuyasha and Kouga when they finally found him – both of them were far more level-headed than either their leader or the hanyou. "We had better get going. Kouga is far ahead of us now."  
  
Inuyasha appeared to remember that Kagome was being carried off even as they spoke. "Shit!" he cried, suddenly galvanized into action, and the rest of his party followed suit, the two wolf youkai falling in beside them.   
  
Inuyasha smiled. He could smell Kagome's scent, and it was getting stronger.  
  
* * *  
  
It was perched on a tree branch, and below it the demon was sprawled out, unconscious, on the forest floor.  
  
It hadn't lived very long, and so it was experiencing a sensation altogether new to it – severe annoyance. The miko had resisted, and was far stronger than expected. Even now, it could tell that she was rapidly retreating into the forest – her aura shone like the sun; it would have to be blind not to see it – and it wondered, not for the first time in the past few minutes, why it had thought its task would be easy.  
  
Looking down in disgust at the wolf, it was even more annoyed. Its chosen vessel hadn't been as good as it thought it would be. It seemed the miko already knew about his desire for her, and it hadn't had the impact it had hoped, not to mention the wolf was a fairly simple creature, with supremely simple desires. It simply hadn't been good enough for its purpose. And now it had to wait for another vessel, since following the miko while she was on her own would be pointless – it couldn't touch such power.  
  
Off to the side, a twig snapped. Then another, and another, until it sounded as though a herd of water buffalo was taking a stroll through the forest. The thing perked up a bit and started to feel less annoyed – it could sense the approaching group, and they were very receptive.   
  
Languidly, it stretched out a tendril of consciousness, seeking them out; they weren't hard to find. Their thoughts floated along the surface of their minds, like leaves on the water, and beneath them pulled currents of emotion, dipping and converging and strong, strong, strong. Even better, they had a direct connection to its target, and there were... powerful feelings toward her, and toward each other.   
  
They were perfect.  
  
* * *  
  
Sango looked down at the figure of Kouga and raised an eyebrow. He didn't seem injured, but he was definitely unconscious, almost certainly knocked out by something.   
  
"Did Kagome-sama do this?" Miroku asked behind her. Instinctively, she stepped to the side in order to avoid any wandering hands that might accidentally make their way to her backside. Miroku made an almost imperceptible, but definitely disappointed, noise.  
  
Hakkaku shook his head. "We should wake him up," he said. He elbowed Ginta in the ribs. "Give him a poke."  
  
"What?" Ginta sounded horrified. "I'm not going to poke him! You poke him!"  
  
"No way!" Hakkaku shot back. "I thought up how to find him, _you_ get to wake him up! Now poke Kouga!"  
  
A snort of irritation interrupted them before they could come to blows. "Keh! _I'll_ wake him up." Inuyasha stomped past them.  
  
"Oi!" he yelled, kicking the prince in the leg. "Wake up, wimpy wolf! Where the hell is Kagome?"  
  
The figure on the ground made a little groaning sound before stirring. "Shut _up_, dog turd," he muttered before waving ineffectually at the foot still kicking him. "How the hell should I know?"  
  
Inuyasha looked fit to kill. He reached down and grabbed the wolf by his armor and hauled him to his feet. "Where is she?" he demanded, low and dangerous.  
  
Kouga opened one eye. "Isn't she with you?"  
  
Inuyasha was incoherent. _"NO!"_  
  
Kouga was suddenly standing on his own feet, wide awake, and angry. "You let her get _kidnapped?_ I can't believe you would let that happen! She's not safe with you!" he yelled, and took the first swing, which landed neatly across Inuyasha's nose.  
  
Miroku ignored the two fighting rivals and turned to Sango. "It looks like he doesn't remember what he did," he said. "That's very odd."  
  
Sango nodded and shivered. "Houshi-sama? You don't think it could be Naraku, do you?"  
  
The monk just shrugged. "It could be," he replied, his mouth drawing down into a grim line.  
  
"How can you not remember? Her scent is all over you!" Inuyasha howled, slashing at the wolf with his claws. Kouga sidestepped, neatly pivoted on one foot, and kicked him in the ribs.  
  
"Yeah, too bad I don't," he replied snidely, "because it smells like she was excited about something!"  
  
"YOU – "  
  
Sango realized that they weren't going to stop until someone intervened. Usually Kagome-chan would use her subduing spell, but she wasn't around. The exterminator sighed and unhooked Hiraikotsu from its perch on her back.  
  
She stepped in and swung the giant boomerang in between Kouga and Inuyasha. "Break it up, you two," she said, sounding bored. "When we find Kagome-chan, she'll be really upset with both of you for fighting."  
  
That got through to Kouga, at least, who stepped back. He looked around, his gaze finally alighting on Ginta and Hakkaku.  
  
"Hey, where am I, anyway?" he demanded.  
  
They both slumped. "We woke up this morning and you were gone, Kouga!" Hakkaku said. "Why'd you leave?"  
  
Kouga was beginning to look mildly panicked. "I don't remember going anywhere! Except..." he trailed off, looking thoughtful, and then his eyes widened.  
  
"Oh, no!" he suddenly cried. "I do remember! It's a little fuzzy, though." He sat down and rubbed his temples. The group watched him expectantly, except for Inuyasha, who was fuming with his back turned. "I did!" he finally said. "I did take her." He sounded upset.  
  
Miroku stepped forward. "Why?"  
  
Kouga shook his head. "It seemed... it seemed a good idea at the time. I just wanted her away from dog crap, here, to ask her something."  
  
"Keh!"  
  
Kouga ignored Inuyasha's exclamation of disbelief. "And..." he shook his head a little, as though trying to clear it. He appeared to hesitate for a moment. "...it just seemed like the thing to do at the time," he finished lamely.  
  
"Where is she now, Kouga?" Miroku asked him. "Can you remember that?"  
  
The wolf prince rubbed his head ruefully, a small blush coloring his cheeks. "She sort of knocked me out. But her scent goes that way," he pointed.  
  
"What did you do to make her mad?" demanded the hanyou, striding forward.  
  
Kouga was immediately on his feet again. "That's none of your business!" he retorted.  
  
"Like hell it isn't!" It looked as if he was going to punch the wolf in the eye again, but Miroku cleared his throat.  
  
"Shouldn't you be going to find Kagome-sama?" he asked pointedly.  
  
Ears twitched. "I know that!" the hanyou snapped. He turned back to Kouga. "I'll kick your ass later, wimpy wolf," he informed him before taking off through the trees in the direction Kouga had pointed.  
  
"Moron," Kouga shouted after him, but it didn't seem his heart was in it.  
  
* * *  
  
A severely winded Kagome was struggling through the thick underbrush in the direction that her instincts told her was "away." She never thought she would be afraid of Kouga, but he had been so _intense_ that she had snapped, and here she was, lost in the woods. Alone. Without her bow.  
  
She was also feeling incredibly guilty for doing... whatever it was she hand done... to Kouga. Since she'd become more familiar with him, he'd never done anything up to this day to hurt or scare her, and it seemed cruel of her to treat him so badly. He _probably_ wouldn't have hurt her or done something she didn't want...  
  
...no, he would have. But Kagome remained firm in her opinion that he hadn't known what he was doing; he had just been acting too _strange_, too out-of-character to be himself, and his bright, glassy eyes were still worrying her. Youkai couldn't get sick, could they?  
  
Kagome slowed down a little in her flight, suddenly feeling extremely weary, and a little sad. She wondered briefly if she should turn back and make sure Kouga was all right, but instinct told her to not face him again on her own, since she'd only narrowly avoided some pretty strange manhandling the first time.  
  
A branch she had been pushing away snapped back too soon and scraped across her face. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, raising a hand to her cheek. It came away slightly wet and red, and Kagome wished fervently for her first aid kit – if she didn't clean it out soon it might leave a scar.   
  
Her shoulders slumped gently, and she sighed. It just wasn't her day. Common sense told her to sit down and wait to be found, but since she could be found by any number of extremely unpleasant things, her legs kept moving, even though she was growing increasingly tired, and her muscles and lungs ached.  
  
She didn't even hear the crashing through the thicket behind her until something grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. She bit out a scream.  
  
"Baka!" Inuyasha jumped back. "It's just me!"  
  
Kagome reached her limit. There was only so much a girl could take in one day, and a heart attack was not one of them.  
  
"OSUWARI!" she screamed.  
  
Inuyasha's face met the dirt, but Kagome didn't feel any better; her heart was still thundering and she was still scared witless.  
  
"Osuwari, OSUWARI, _OSUWARI!_"  
  
"Aaarrgh!"  
  
Kagome stood there, panting, but feeling oddly satisfied. "I hope you learned your lesson!" she snapped. "Don't sneak up on me like that. I've had a very bad day."  
  
He just looked up at her from his place on the ground. "_You've_ had a bad day?" he growled.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Snorting, he turned his head away, refusing to look at her. "Then I'll just leave you out here, you ingrate," he said.  
  
_Oh!_ She had almost completely forgotten she was lost. _Oh!_ She hastened to apologize.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, dropping to her knees in front of him. "I'm really sorry."  
  
His ears twitched. "Keh," he said, before turning to look at her. His eyes suddenly became round. "Crap! What did that bastard do to you? I'll _kill_ him!"  
  
Puzzled, Kagome raised a hand to the part of her face he was looking at it, her fingers brushing the cut on her cheek and causing a sharp sting to tingle through her skin. "Ooh," she muttered. "Kouga didn't do that," she informed him. "I cut myself on a branch."  
  
Inuyasha slowly got to his feet. "You're so helpless without me around," he told her, turning his back and kneeling down, inviting her to climb on his back. Slightly hurt by his words but determined not to show him, she took his invitation.  
  
"So what _did_ he do to you?" he asked impatiently as they started back toward the way he had come.  
  
Kagome shook her head. "Nothing," she replied. "Nothing at all."  
  
"Then why'd you knock him out?"  
  
Kagome didn't answer for a long moment. "I'll tell you when we're back with the others," she finally said, and refused to tell him anything further.  
  
* * *  
  
**A/N:** So! What really _did_ transpire between Kouga and Kagome? And what the hell is that creepy thing that keeps popping up? And when will Sango and Sesshoumaru exchange make-up tips? (Probably never, but it would be cute.) Tune in next time, when things really start getting weird.  
  
If you want to listen to me whine about writing this fic and you have a Live Journal, check out my anime journal, where I announce updates, reccomendations, and post little teasers and silly drabbles. My user name is ash_grey_sky.  
  
Also, a HUGE thanks to my reviewers, who totally kept me going! I love you all so much, I think I just ruptured my abdominal cavity! Proposals of marriage go out to Sandra E (Of course, we musts adopt a puppy -- puppies are the cure for all evil!), Ashely (IY _is_ quite a jerk sometimes), Ongaku (Danka! *smooch*), Ismene (OMG! SHIPPOU/HITEN 4EVAH! OTP! OTP!!), rosin (I love Kouga so much; he's so cool! look for more of him later on...), Horridporrid (*fangirl moment for "Lessons"* Eeee! Glad you like! The invisible enemy is my own invention, and it's hard to write... ^^; Also, if you haven't read the full manga and have a bit of patience, you can catch the translations over at www . wot-club . org . uk / Inuyasha / [just take out the spaces ^^]), AngelHeart2122 (Thanks! Is this soon enough?), lynnxlady (Rock on with the Kikyou love! As for IY/Sango, I can't give away details of the plot, but, um... there could be something there... ^^;), and Jenny-fer (Considering that my obsession with Sesshoumaru borders on the psychotic, I think it's very safe to say that he will show up... ^^). Thank you all! I'll try to get the next chapter up within a week. 


	3. Chapter Three: Your Own Devices

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Inuyasha. I own a very talkative dog. If you sue me, you'll get him, and he'll wake you up at three in the morning. Yeah. How do ya like THAT?  
  
**Summary:** The darkest places are the places of the heart, and the darkest desires are those we don't know ourselves. The gang faces a new threat from Naraku – one that can destroy the bonds of affection and forever change their relationships.  
  
**Chapter Summary:** Sango angsts, and everyone dreams. Also, Kouga gets embarrassed over the SILLIEST things.  
  
**Spoilers:** Very late in the manga. Basically an AU continuation of the series beginning at the end of manga volume 33, chapter 326. Why? I don't like rats. I'm avoiding them.  
  
**Warnings:** Haha! Darkfic and unresolved sexual tension are like bread and butter to me. This fic deals with some dark themes, and has more pairings, both canon and non-canon, than you'd be wise to shake a stick at. Yes. Lots and lots of pairings, some blatant, some implied. If you're looking for fluffy Inu/Kag action, this is not the place for you.  
  
**Credits:** The title comes from the song All My Little Words by The Magnetic Fields. It seemed appropriate.  
  


**_All My Little Words_  
by  
_Resmiranda_  
  
Chapter Three: Your Own Devices**

  
  
_"Now she's falling hard,  
feels the fall of dark...  
How did this fall apart?"_  
**– Dave Matthews Band, _The Dreaming Tree_**  
  
***  
  
Sango peered at the youkai sitting on the ground and staring at a patch of dirt as though it held the secret to getting stringy meat out of one's teeth, but she refrained from speaking to him – he looked as if he had enough on his mind already. His thick black eyebrows were drawn down in concentration, and his blue eyes seemed to have darkened with whatever thoughts he was entertaining as his nimble hands absently shredded the small, hapless weeds that had been unlucky enough to grow where he chose to sit. If she didn't know that the wolf prince was confident to a fault, she would have thought that he was mad with himself for his actions, but that seemed silly. Even if he _was_ angry with himself, he would never show it. Sango yawned, and tried to turn her attention to something that might be more amusing; watching Kouga decimate the local weed population and mope like a kicked puppy wasn't her idea of a good time.  
  
She only had to turn her head slightly to catch a glimpse of something more interesting. Seemingly by accident, she let her gaze fall on Miroku, a gesture which she found herself doing more and more often lately, even though the object of her attentions made her more and more confused inside. Off to the side, the monk was pulling his calm Buddha act and sitting several yards away with Shippou slumped next to him on the ground, but Sango could tell he was brooding about something – his back was rigid and the slope of his shoulders was hard and angry.   
  
Her fingers itched, and she fought back the sensations that were becoming less insistent and more confusing as time passed. When she had been a demon hunter in her old village, she would comfort and coax her brother back into good cheer when he was upset or angry, and now she was feeling the same urges toward her frustrating monk. She wanted to run her hand down that back and soothe away the tension that so obviously haunted him, wanted to knead the quivering, rigid line of muscle across his shoulders into something softer, more upstanding. There was just something about him that urged her to fold him into contentment, mold him into relaxation. A quick glance at his face told her he was sternly meditating on a problem, although she was not privileged to know what was troubling him. She'd do a lot to make that face melt into a boyish, innocent smile, even when the wearer was anything _but_ innocent.  
  
Sango shook her head, as if to clear her mind of such foolish thoughts, because she was mad at him. And it was getting increasingly easy for her to remember why.  
  
Men, she thought, trying not to let her annoyance show on her face. She really was upset with him, and for a good reason, too – he hadn't mentioned their recent "understanding" since it had been forged, but she wanted to talk to him about it, especially to extract a promise to quit his wandering ways, which he had yet to do. Something held her back though, and she had yet to gather up her courage to approach him. _He_ seemed blissfully unaware of her discomfort concerning their relationship, but there were so many things that confused her, so many questions she wanted to ask him, like why couldn't he commit, even after proposing? What was their status now? How should she treat him? How should he treat _her_? Should she wait for him to make the first move? Technically, she supposed he'd made a thousand moves, but at the time it was under the guise of horny male. She wondered if now it was _her_ turn to start copping a feel whenever the opportunity presented itself. Would he be any different? Would he ever reserve himself for her, or would she always be the main woman of his life while keeping another on the side?   
  
Somehow, to Sango, that seemed a lot like being second best.  
  
The exterminator groaned inwardly. The real question she needed to be asking was: why was she so brave in battle and such a coward when it came to this? It was intensely aggravating. Sango resolved not to think about it.  
  
Too much.   
  
She turned back to Kouga, who had gotten a bit more interesting in the past few minutes, and was currently valiantly ignoring the questions with which his two companions were pelting him. Sango listened absently for a few moments, and determined that the queries basically boiled down to: _where did you go?_ and _who were you with?_ Hakkaku was clucking like a mother hen and inspecting his leader for damage caused by the object of his ardour, quite determined despite Kouga's half-hearted attempts to bat him away. It was amusing to watch them paw at each other. Still, in the whirlwind of questions, Sango could hear that they were each dancing around the question she knew they wanted to ask but were too polite – or scared of randomized wrath – to ask.  
  
_Did you get anywhere with her?_ Honestly, it was like every man, deep down inside, was twelve years old.  
  
Shifting her Hiraikotsu thoughtfully, Sango cocked her head to the side. It would be a useful question to ask. Then she would know whether or not to crack his fool head open for taking advantage of Kagome-chan, or to just be magnanimous about the whole thing. Unlike Inuyasha, she didn't have any real vested interest in Kagome-chan's suitors other than her friend's future happiness, and so anything that didn't directly harm her was probably all right. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell if Kouga was reticent due to being such a gentleman, or because he was afraid of Inuyasha's rage, or maybe some other reason entirely, and subsequently she didn't know how to react to what had happened. No doubt Kagome-chan would tell her later, but if she wanted to be effective in doling out punishment, she should probably get it in before Kouga left. She had a hard time envisioning Kouga forcing himself on Kagome in any way simply because he always seemed so concerned for her safety, but she had to admit she didn't really know the wolf youkai that well. It was hard figuring out his motivations, although from what she had seen of him his motives probably weren't either of the two reasons to which she had given mental voice – he was more brash than refined, and more likely to pick a fight than avoid one. He was like Inuyasha, in a way, but also somehow different.  
  
Sango leaned against a tree in order to let her body rest a little bit, and studied him, enjoying the slight puzzle he presented. Absentmindedly, she stroked Kirara, who purred contentedly in the crook of her arm.  
  
She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost missed Ginta lifting his head to the air and inhaling deeply before turning to his pack leader.  
  
"Ne, Kouga," he said, giving Kouga a quick punch to the shoulder. The wolf prince swatted his hand away irritation ingrained in the gesture itself.  
  
"What?" he said grumpily, his tone of voice suggesting that whatever it was, it had better be good, because by _god_, he was ready to drown himself – or a suitable substitute, quite possibly even Ginta – in a lake.  
  
"Er..." Ginta paused. Sango noted that there was a certain struggle carried out behind his eyes. In fact, it seemed to be an eternal struggle: to make his suggestion and risk a smack to the back of the head, or to let it go and let Kouga do whatever he wanted? A stray thought suggested that Kouga probably did what he wanted anyway, regardless of what his two companions thought, but it was just an impression. Perhaps he _did_ listen to them on occasion. When no one else was looking.  
  
Ginta appeared to arrive at a conclusion and opened his mouth again. "Shouldn't we leave before Inuyasha gets back?" he said, and then winced preemptively.  
  
His wince, which had been rather impressive, Sango reflected, was not wasted.  
  
_"Baka!"_ Kouga sneered, bringing his hand into sound contact with Ginta's crown. "Why should I run away? I haven't done anything wrong."  
  
Hakkaku, looking pained but resigned, leaned in. "He'll be back with _Kagome_," he said in a low voice, and squeezed his eyes shut, waited for the inevitable blow.  
  
Which didn't come. Sango was as surprised as Hakkaku looked, while Ginta just stared enviously at his friend and rubbed his head. Kouga just had a thoughtful expression on his face, and...  
  
Sango looked closer, wondering if she was imagining things – but no! There was a distinct coloring to his cheeks. She raised her eyebrows and marvelled at one of the many things she thought she'd never see: the cocky wolf prince, fighting back a blush.   
  
She briefly wondered what memory of his time with Kagome could make him red in the face, decided she didn't like any of the answers that she came up with, and raised a hand to Hiraikotsu.  
  
Abruptly, Kouga stood. "You're right," he said, voice brimming with authority. "We should leave."  
  
Sango cleared her throat preparing to tell him to stay put for just a few more moments when Miroku cut her off.  
  
"And why do you not want to see Kagome-sama again?" he asked, glaring at the wolf youkai from his benign meditative posture. To Sango it seemed like his voice was hard as granite. She swallowed. It was probably just her imagination; she was so used to hearing his voice in its normal soft, lilting tones that when he used it to convey anger it just sounded inordinately harsh.  
  
Kouga, for his part, looked uncomfortable, and shifted slightly from one foot to the other, as though he wanted to just run away. His voice, however, emerged with confidence Sango was positive he didn't necessarily feel. "That's none of your business, houshi," he retorted, tossing his head slightly so that his long, black queue flipped insolently from one shoulder to the other. The air around the little group, so free before, had suddenly become thick with tension and repressed anger.  
  
Miroku did not reply right away; instead, he took his time, slowly pushing himself up from the ground and getting to his feet in a manner so leisurely that Sango would have sworn he wasn't upset at all. It was only because she knew him that she could see he was quite angry. Nonchalantly, he dusted off his robes with his right hand, a move no doubt calculated to bring the observer's eye to his sealed right hand. Finally he looked Kouga in the eye.  
  
"Yes, it is. You abandon your comrades, abduct Kagome-sama, she defends herself for whatever reason, and now you are a little too eager to leave, as if you are embarrassed by your conduct and do not wish to confront her again. Am I not correct?" he said. Under the normal cadence of his voice, Sango could hear the thread of cold steel running through his words. For the first time, she was beginning to be truly concerned for Kagome – what exactly did the monk think had transpired between the wolf prince and her friend?   
  
Kouga looked flabbergasted. He took one step forward in a posture that Sango recognized as one that asserted dominance, and balled his hands into fists. "Whatever you're thinking, it's wrong," he said, a snarl in his throat.  
  
Sango decided it was time for her to step forward. "Kouga," she said, not softly, but not as hard as Miroku had spoken, "what did you do to Kagome-chan?" She hefted her boomerang slightly, her eyes trained on the youkai.  
  
"Nothing!" Kouga turned his back on them. "I just wanted to talk to her! That's all."  
  
Giving a snort of disdain, the monk raised his right hand. "Kouga, if you are lying, I will suck you up into this kazanaa and you will be unable to see Kagome-chan for the rest of your short life."  
  
There was a slight but perceptible hunching of Kouga's shoulders, though if Sango had not been looking she would have missed it. The wolf prince mumbled something.  
  
"What was that?" Sango asked sharply, taking a step forward.  
  
Kouga sighed dramatically and turned to look at her over his shoulder. "I _said_, I wanted her to come with me. I didn't touch her – " he shot a look of contempt at Miroku, " – but I insisted... and she just didn't want to come. So she knocked me flat," he finished, sounding somewhat rueful.  
  
Frowning, Sango mulled this bit of information over in her mind, setting Hiraikotsu in the soft earth and leaning on it so that Kouga would see that she wasn't a threat.  
  
Miroku looked as confused as she felt. "What are you talking about?" he blurted. "Why would you be embarrassed that you asked Kagome-sama to accompany you? You do that every other week."  
  
"I know that!" Kouga snapped, then immediately subsided. "It's just... it was different this time."  
  
Miroku stared, while Sango mulled the puzzle over in her mind. "You mean..." she ventured, "you _didn't_ ask her to be your, ah, woman this time?" Perhaps she had spent too much time with that lecherous monk, but this particular scenario was the only one she could think of. Sango wished she could scrub her brain, and shot a particularly dirty look at Miroku. Miroku caught it and looked mildly hurt.  
  
Kouga looked, if anything, even more uncomfortable. "No, I didn't," he said with an air of finality. He turned slightly and sniffed the air. "And now I have to go." With that, he dug into the earth and took off in what Sango assumed was the opposite direction of Inuyasha and Kagome's approach. Ginta and Hakkaku lingered behind in his dust, each rather slumped at the prospect of following him, but in the end decided to give chase.  
  
"Tell nee-san we were sorry to miss her," Hakkaku called as they both began their tired run, trailing after their pack leader.  
  
Staring after them, Sango could only nod her assent, even though they couldn't see her. And now she was left alone with Miroku and Shippou. As she sank down to the ground for a rest, one of her hands lifted of its own accord and began to stroke Kirara, who had relocated to her shoulder. Petting Kirara always made her feel better when she was anxious or nervous, and Sango didn't think she could take much time alone with Miroku right now.  
  
"What was that look for?" Miroku asked, no doubt allowing just the slightest bit of hurt into his voice. Just to let her know he felt downtrodden. She ignored him and ran her fingers through Kirara's fur. The cat youkai purred.  
  
"Ne, Sango..."  
  
_Always persistent,_ she thought. She had to give him that. Reluctantly, she lifted her gaze and let it fall on him, feeling her heart skip a beat, just like it did every time she saw him. Damn it. Damn her stupid, romantic soul, and her stupid notions. _Stupid, stupid, stupid._ She vaguely wondered if she would end up like Kagome-chan, accepting the status of second best just to be near someone she loved. Not that there was anything really wrong with that... Kagome-chan knew what she was doing, and had made her choice long ago. But still...  
  
"Sango?"  
  
Sango realized she had been rudely staring off into space, and blinked several times to bring her eyes back into focus. "Gomen," she said quickly. "I was thinking of something else, houshi-sama."  
  
Miroku just looked at her oddly, but nodded his head before settling back against a tree, looking distinctly more relaxed. He did not press her for an answer, for which Sango was rather grateful.  
  
It was only a minute in the silence of the forest before the sounds of something crashing through the trees became clear. A few moments later and the voices of Inuyasha and Kagome could be heard, arguing as usual. Sango suppressed a smile.  
  
Crash. Snap. "Why can't you tell me now, Kagome?"  
  
"Because!" Bang. Crunch. "I don't want to have to repeat myself!"  
  
Falling tree. "Tell me, dammit!"  
  
A second later and Inuyasha fell through the canopy above, touching down gently in the small clearing. Kagome clambered off his back, brushing leaves and twigs off her uniform, and gave an audible sigh as she looked around the clearing.   
  
"Does anyone have my bow and arrows? I feel naked without them!" she asked, gently dislodging a small bird's nest from her hair. Sango tried to ignore the choking sound from Miroku, and Shippou ignored them all and leapt straight into Kagome's arms. Kagome laughed.   
  
Sango was struck with a severe sense of vertigo. The world seemed to be tipping on its end, and even though she should be nursing deja vu, instead it seemed that this time, this particular incident was different, and it felt like someone had poured ice water over her brain, dripping down the walls of her skull, trickling down the inside of her neck –   
  
She blinked, and the feeling was gone, so completely that she wondered if she had even experienced it at all. But she still felt cold. Absent-mindedly, she rubbed her arms through the cloth covering them, and spoke what they were all thinking.  
  
"Ne, Kagome-chan," she said, walking towards her restored friend. "What happened between you and Kouga?"  
  
Kagome glanced around, appearing surprised that Kouga was not on the ground where she had left him. "Um..." she said hesitantly. "He just wanted me to come with him."  
  
"Where?" Inuyasha barked.  
  
She looked confused. "What?"  
  
The hanyou pulled an expression of annoyance across his face. "Where did he want to take you?" he said slowly, as if speaking to a small child. Surprisingly, Kagome did not seem to take umbrage with his tone.   
  
"He wanted me to go with him to find Naraku. So we could defeat him together," she supplied. Her hands twisted in on each other, as if she was nervous saying it out loud.  
  
Sango blinked, perplexed. "But..." she began.  
  
Inuyasha cut her off with a particularly sinister snicker, and Miroku looked knowing.   
  
"Wait a minute!" Shippou piped up. "Why was Kouga so embarrassed about _that_?" He sounded just as confused as Sango.  
  
"He was embarrassed?" Kagome asked, astonished. Sango could see why – Kouga never seemed to be embarrassed about anything, even his feelings.  
  
Miroku looked up at the leaves above him. "I would guess that he was embarrassed that he asked Kagome-sama for help, when his only objective concerning her has been to protect her and keep her out of harm's way." He glanced at the still snickering Inuyasha. "Also, he is very proud. He would never ask anyone for help if possible."  
  
Inuyasha gave up and began to laugh outright. "Wimp... wimpy wolf!" he wheezed, doubled over. "Asking Kagome for help!"  
  
Kagome did not seem to find this quite as funny as he did. "Hey!" she said indignantly. "You get help from me all the time, Inuyasha!"  
  
This stopped him. Inuyasha quit laughing and straightened up, glaring at her. "I don't need your help," he said, sniffing. He thrust his nose in the air, pride wounded. Shippou decided that this would be the best point for him to disembark from Port Kagome and head for the Bay of Miroku, who had caught Sango's eye. Both of them knew where this particular discussion was heading: a few more insults from Inuyasha, a couple of outraged statements from Kagome, and the hanyou would eat dirt. It wasn't a good enough show to watch more than twice – after a dozen performances it got somewhat tedious – and the scenario had been played out hundreds of times by now.   
  
At least this was one thing she could still do with Miroku without feeling awkward, Sango mused. They could walk away together, feeling suitably sanctimonious and superior without any of their strange emotions muddying the water.  
  
Sango sighed, a sigh that spoke of long-suffering. "Do they ever get tired of this?" she asked, almost rhetorically.  
  
Miroku shrugged. "I think they enjoy it, on some level," he replied.  
  
Sango dropped her head forward and smiled. The exterminator, the kitsune, and the monk continued in the direction they had first been travelling before their detour.  
  
***  
  
Kagome stretched out in her sleeping bag, preparing to bed down for the night beneath a tree that was just starting to turn color. On the wind, the seasons were changing, and soon it would be autumn, and all around her would sink into sleep. She smiled – she was glad; she loved the changing of the seasons.  
  
Still, she was mildly irked. It had been an annoying day. Not so much interesting, really; rather more of the same to tell the truth. Since when did getting kidnapped become such a part of her every day routine that she could swallow it without so much as a fuss? It was like it was par for the course now.  
  
Even though it was somewhat selfish, Kagome wished for something new to happen, so that she could break out of the tedium of demon-hunting and shard-searching. Except that there weren't any more shards. So really, what was she doing here?  
  
The sensible thing to do would be to go home, where, as far as she knew, Naraku couldn't reach her. But she was still here, still travelling, still placing herself in danger. Why?  
  
But she knew why.  
  
A little way away from her, Inuyasha's ears twitched in his strange half-sleep, his sword cradled against his chest. Kagome wondered what it was he thought about while he let his body rest from the trials of the day, and if he ever thought of her, as she thought of him.  
  
Anything was possible, right?  
  
"Kagome-sama."  
  
Kagome turned her head a bit, slightly startled to see Miroku only a few feet from her sleeping bag, his back propped against a tree.  
  
"Yes?" she asked him.  
  
He smiled a little bit. "Go to sleep, Kagome-sama," he said gently. Kagome favored him with a smile, and turned over, placing a hand around Shippou's already sleeping form and closed her eyes.  
  
Who knew what tomorrow would bring?  
  
***  
  
It had followed them. They travelled slowly to accommodate the humans in their group, and that suited it just fine – its run-in with the wolf prince had left it feeling slightly drained – the wolf was poor food – and it was glad it didn't have to strain to keep up with the little group. Now they had stopped, and it wondered if it could pull off the plan it had formulated.   
  
Directly below it, the monk was nodding off into sleep. The taijiya was already lost to dreams, and the hanyou, only a bit off to the right, was taking his solace in the strange half-dreams that played behind his eyes while his ears and nose stayed alert, scouting the night for dangers.  
  
It couldn't touch the kitsune – he was too near to the miko for it to sense him, and to get too close to her aura without the protective shell of flesh about it would spell purification and death.  
  
It could taste their minds, mingling in the night air, and they were so rich with emotion, so complex in their thoughts and feelings for one another... and her. They were a sumptuous banquet laid out for the taking, and it knew how to savor them.  
  
Slowly, it descended, a creature of thought. If it had possessed a body, an observer would have witnessed it start to splinter, to split down, three ways, and slowly creep toward the three sleeping figures it could touch.  
  
It was _hungry_.  
  
And now it would feast.  
  
***  
  
Sango slept, and dreamed...  
  
_...of her old life. She can taste the air in her village, smell cooking fish and burning youkai bones, the fragrance of people living, of people going about their day, secure and, if not happy, at least content.  
  
Kohaku is sitting in front of her, his back to her, and staring out at the little yard behind their hut where he practices. But he is not practicing now. Now he is just sitting, slumped and sad, and trying not to cry.  
  
"Kohaku," says Sango. She sits down behind him, sliding her legs on either side of him and looping her arms about his slim torso. He stiffens slightly for a moment before melting back into her.  
  
"Aneue," he replies. She frowns. He sounds sad and broken, not like himself at all. Something is wrong. Gently she tightens her hold on him, placing her chin on his shoulder. She breathes deeply.  
  
"Did father scold you again?" she asks. That must be it. Father scolds him too much. Far too much. Not for the first time, she wonders if her little brother is cut out for being a taijiya. But that is silly. He was born into it. He will be one of the best.  
  
"No," he whispers, in answer to her question.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"He bled. A lot."  
  
She is startled by this proclamation. But he's right. Father did bleed a lot. So much blood, spilling down his neck. Sango squeezes her eyes shut.  
  
That's right. Father is dead. And so is the boy in her arms. He feels cold, even now, in this dream, because it must be a dream.  
  
Slowly, Sango turns her head and presses a kiss to his cheek. He tastes like the past, and it is bitter on her tongue.  
  
He tastes like dying hopes. He tastes like dreams denied._  
  
It crept in through her dreams, and settled around her heart that beat, sad and sickly, in her breast.  
  
And across the clearing, Inuyasha dreamed...  
  
_...of memories that lie, disused and dusty, in the corners of his mind.  
  
He stares up at the face of his older brother, only in this memory he is young, not more than ten years old. His face is more animated, his eyes more lively, and right now he is staring in horror at the carpet in front of him.  
  
"Crap!" he says. Inuyasha remembers now how strange it was to hear that word on his brother's lips. He would get in big trouble if their mother heard them. But then again, they were already in big trouble. He looks down at the shattered pieces of the vase on the floor, and his heart drops. That was his mother's favorite vase.  
  
"I told you not to transform in the house," he says to his brother, accusingly. Onii-chan has pinned one too many things on him for Inuyasha's taste. He didn't want to get into trouble again over something he didn't do.  
  
"Shut up," his brother says, looking panicky. "Where do you think we should hide this?"  
  
But it's too late. Both of them turn fearfully, listening to their mother's footsteps, coming closer and closer, down the hallway...  
  
... and Inuyasha can also remember her kisses and smiles, and how warm she felt when he was scared or when Sesshoumaru had teased him once too often or when he was sick...  
  
...and barely on the edge of remembrance, is his father's scent, deep and pungent and spicy, like autumn air. Even now, in the slow death of the world, he is reminded of his father although he can no longer recall his face...  
  
...and then there was her, with peaceful eyes and sweet smiles and soft tones, with hair like silk and a heart full of kindness, who said she loved him, who wanted to be with him always...  
  
But all that is gone now.  
  
In his dreams, Inuyasha remembers all that he has lost._  
  
And it is there with the hanyou as well, reaching out and holding him close. It loves the taste of despair.  
  
And a few feet away, Miroku dreamed...  
  
_...of dying. He dreams about dying a lot, because he can feel death coming for him. It's only a matter of time, and he tries, over and over, to make peace with it. The future waits for no man, and he is no exception. No matter how much he wants to stop time, to stop the inevitable, to run from the cold, icy knowledge of his fate, he cannot.  
  
He is so familiar with this sensation, the sensation of his entire body folding in on itself, his flesh ripping, his bones being crushed, inexorably pulled toward one point, snapping under pressure, tearing his muscles. It is agony. The kazanaa takes its own sweet time, pulling him in, prolonging his torture. Miroku wishes to die, quickly, without pain, but that is impossible.  
  
All he has ever done condenses down into this one moment. His whole life, reduced to this single endless stretch of pain, and then nothingness.  
  
He thinks of all those he has sucked into the eternal void of his hand, and wonders if they felt this same horrifying rending of the body, the same collapse of the mind, as they flew into oblivion.  
  
He hopes not.  
  
He doesn't die every night, but he dies often enough. And in the darkest depths of his mind, he is afraid, and he is ashamed._  
  
And it coiled around the monk, devouring his fear.  
  
In the dark, Miroku opened his eyes, and saw the future he longed to forget.  
  
***  
  
Kagome woke up very slowly to the sound of someone calling her name. She rubbed a hand across her eyes, scrubbing the sleep from them, and looked around for the source of the sound. She wasn't quite awake enough to figure out who was calling for her, or even where she was.  
  
_Hm, last I checked, Mama wasn't a man... so I must be in the past._ She smiled slightly. Sometimes she was a genius when it came to figuring things out. So it must be Miroku or Inuyasha, and since the voice wasn't yelling or angry, it was probably the monk. Kagome turned toward where she'd last seen him.  
  
Inches from her nose, Miroku blinked.  
  
"Eep!" She would have shot out of her sleeping bag if she weren't worried about waking Shippou. "Geez, Miroku, don't do that to me," she hissed.   
  
"Gomen, Kagome-sama," he said, holding up a placating hand. "I was wondering if you would like to go for a walk with me."  
  
Kagome blinked in confusion. "What, now?" she asked.  
  
"Hai." He smiled that sweet, debonnaire smile.  
  
Kagome shrugged. If he'd woken her up over it, it was probably important to him. Careful to not dislodge the sleeping fox kit, Kagome eased out of her sleeping bag and stood up. "Okay, I'm ready," she said to him.  
  
Miroku grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the trees.  
  
***  
  
**A/N:** Hope I didn't lose too many people out there – this chapter was kind of slow, even though I really like writing from Sango's perspective. Next time: Kagome tries to figure out what the hell is going on with her friends. How long 'til she figures it out, I wonder?  
  
Once again, thanks to all my wonderful reviewers! I love you guys so much. You rock me. ^_^ Thanks to **Ismene** (if I can find a way to resurrect Hiten from the dead, there will be so much angst between him and Shippou… theirloveissoviolent!), **Kitty Neko** (well, well, MirKag… you just might get your wish), **Ongaku** (Yeah, Hakkaku is sort of like me. *is evil*), **rosin** (Kouga is so not dying! He is too cool to die.), **Horridporrid** (I should have updated, like, two days ago. And hopefully I'm not keeping too many secrets… ^^;), **Black Balloon** (K/K IS hot, but I have no idea who Kagome will end up with. It depends on the story. But there could be some, you know, K/K in the future. ^_~), and last, but not least, **San** (Ginta/Hakkaku. Side story. OH YEAH, BABY.)  
  
If you want to listen to me whine about writing this fic, check out my anime journal, where I announce updates, recommendations, and post little teasers and silly drabbles. My user name is ash_grey_sky. 


	4. Chapter Four: No Tomorrow

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Inuyasha. If I did, I could afford a better car.  
  
**Summary:** The darkest places are the places of the heart, and the darkest desires are those we don't know ourselves. The gang faces a new threat from Naraku – one that can destroy the bonds of affection and forever change their relationships.  
  
**Chapter Summary:** Miroku takes a bad turn in a back alley off Memory Lane, and Kagome is suddenly out of her depth.  
  
**Spoilers:** Very late in the manga. Basically an AU continuation of the series beginning at the end of manga volume 33, chapter 326. Why? I don't like rats. I'm avoiding them.  
  
**Warnings:** Haha! Darkfic and unresolved sexual tension are like bread and butter to me. This fic deals with some dark themes, and has more pairings, both canon and non-canon, than you'd be wise to shake a stick at. Yes. Lots and lots of pairings, some blatant, some implied. If you're looking for fluffy Inu/Kag action, this is not the place for you. Also, I realize that it says "romance" in the categories, but let's not kid ourselves: there will be no ripping of bodices here. Possibly a love story, but Sango is simply not swooning into the arms of the Dread Pirate Shippou. Just so we have that cleared up.  
  
**Credits:** The title comes from the song All My Little Words by The Magnetic Fields. It seemed appropriate.  
  


**_All My Little Words_  
by  
_Resmiranda_  
  
Chapter Four: No Tomorrow**

  
  
_It's time to kick off our shoes,  
learn how to choose sadness;  
it's time to throw off these chains,  
addle our brains with madness."_  
**– Barenaked Ladies, _That Girl_**  
  
***  
  
When Miroku was nine – only two months after his father had passed into the next world and his own _kazanaa_ had been opened – he had made good headway with a cache of sake that his foster father had forgotten about, hidden behind the woodpile.   
  
Miroku had diligently chopped that wood himself in an afternoon as the wind had turned and the sky had blown gray and cold, heralding the coming cold of winter. Late in the day he'd finally laid down the hatchet and wiped an arm across his forehead, clearing off the last of the honest sweat that had beaded on his brow. Licking his upper lip clean of salt-water, he gazed at his handiwork for a while before nodding in satisfaction and stretching his sore muscles. He'd done a good, thorough job, he'd decided. Oshou-sama would be proud.  
  
Smiling, he'd cracked his knuckles, preparing to move the fresh tinder onto the woodpile. His body ached pleasantly with the reminders of work, but it occurred to him that his right hand hurt more than the rest of him. Distantly, tiredly, he'd reflected that it felt more chafed than his left hand, but he'd reasoned that it was because his right hand was stronger than his left – of course he would use it more and it would be sorer. He hadn't even been thinking of the reasons for the rosary that had caused his pain when he'd unwrapped the beads from his hand; the only thing in his mind was the vague compulsion to wash the sore blisters and possibly smear on a salve to assist the healing.  
  
It was only when he'd heard the roar and felt the pulling, sucking sensation on his skin, only when he'd lost his breath as it was torn from his lips, only when he'd almost heard the cracking of his own neck as the ripping, whirling void yawned wide to gather him in and swallow him whole – it was only then that he'd realized what he had done.   
  
But realization wasn't enough to save him, and in that moment the world stretched out, whipping around him, moving past his still figure in an inescapable vortex of his own making. Pure, petrifying fear wrapped around his arms, anchored his feet to the ground, weighed him down, down, down to the earth as the wind beckoned him away, into the inevitable pit of his fate.   
  
_I'm going to die,_ he thought. _I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die, somebody save me, please, I'm going to die, die, DIE – _  
  
A scream – horrified, despairing – escaped his mouth, and his heart ceased to beat in that moment and lay like a lump of marble in the empty cavity of his chest, dull and lifeless, as though the burden could chain him to the ground, prevent him from being sucked in –   
  
– and it would have been all over for him, if the instinct to live hadn't flared, bypassing any rational thought. Without even knowing he was moving, Miroku wildly wrenched his arm away, rearing back, his left hand coming up and wrapping the rosary around the offending limb unconsciously, without thought, without feeling, without will, sealing away the destruction and chaos he harbored.  
  
The roar didn't stop, though, and it wasn't until he'd nearly passed out in the dirt of the yard that he had suddenly realized the howling, ragged noise was coming from his own throat. Desperately, Miroku choked off his voice and began to draw in great lungfuls of air that slid down the column of his esophagus and washed over the raw edges of his vocal cords like cool droughts of water over a bloody wound. His heart began to beat again, frantically, the blood thundering in his ears and pulsing painfully through his veins. It was a moment before the spots in front of his eyes, black and twisted from lack of oxygen, had faded enough for him to see the landscape that sprawled about him.   
  
All around the small compound, the deceptive calm of the autumn day suddenly seemed excruciatingly cruel, unbearably mocking. A soft breeze – parody of his own wind-tunnel – whispered across the yard, pulling small dead leaves, like skittering skeletons of summer, across the ground in its wake, and the hints of winter in the air, so faint as to almost be nonexistent, promised the peace and slumber of the long, cold months ahead. The sun was hidden behind placid gray clouds that hung heavy and low in the sky, the harbingers of shadow and sleep. In a small tree at the edge of the yard, an early-rising nightingale sang sweetly into the cooling air, and Miroku, listening to the world that cradled him, fancied he could hear the fragile fluttering wings of his life, soaring away across the autumn sky. The serenity made him want to vomit.  
  
All about him, the world turned and he stood still, the end of his life only a breath away. Even then, he'd mused as to how simple it would be to escape into the void, leave behind the horrible waiting. A simple twitch of his hand, letting loose the coils of the seal, and he could slip out of this world and into the next. It would almost an act of poetry, to choose when to die, rather than be pulled in without his consent. It could end easily, and the pain would be brief. In the short years following the incident, Miroku would muse upon this option, but could not bring himself to take his own life – that would be cowardly, would it not? But even if he didn't do that, eventually... eventually he would be swallowed whole, dragged out of life, betrayed by his own body. The outcome would be the same, regardless of whether the time was of his own choosing or not, and he had a lineage to avenge.  
  
Still, vengeance can only carry one so far.  
  
But all that speculation was in the future. In the immediacy of the moment, the young boy slowly, agonizingly, returned, caught up with the reckless spinning of the earth, and Miroku struggled to let his eyelids drop, frantically but deliberately pulling all his energy in, shutting in his fear, his anger, pushing it down and centering himself, shielding his heart against the storm. When his master stumbled out the door and into the yard a few moments later, Miroku knew his face was a calm mask that revealed little except mild amusement. It was a useful mask, and he'd learn to use it often in the years to come.  
  
"Miroku!" Mushin cried, stumbling a little bit. He'd obviously just woken up from a no-doubt drunken nap.  
  
"Hai, Oshou-sama?" he'd replied.  
  
The old monk stopped in his tracks, looking at the boy that had been placed in his care. Miroku could see in his eyes the warring sorrows of knowledge and pity, and he hated it. It was then – that moment, barely minutes after he had almost allowed himself to be destroyed – that Miroku vowed to reverse at least one of those immense chasms of sadness. He couldn't change the knowledge – yet – but he could erase the pity.  
  
Couldn't he?  
  
His master had shaken his head. "Forget it," he'd mumbled, turning and walking back inside. Miroku had merely nodded and began to gather his chopped wood, piling it up against the back outside wall. He had to clamber over the slipping wood, and it was as he was placing logs on the pile that they slipped slightly and the hidden cache of sake was revealed.  
  
Even as his eyes fell on the jug full of alcohol, anyone watching him wouldn't have thought anything was even remotely amiss. Smoothly, he'd righted the wood and stacked it again, neatly, against the wall, making sure that the stack was strong and sturdy and wouldn't eventually slip and clatter down the small hill. Then he had gone inside, to prepare food for himself and for Mushin.  
  
It hadn't been until much later that night that the door had slid back and the shadow of a young boy had crept out of the building and around the side. Working swiftly but quietly, Miroku removed the wood that was blocking the jug of sake from view. Drawing it out, he moved a little further away, into the shelter of the trees, blowing on his cupped hands as he did so. It had become a little chillier in the intervening hours between the afternoon and the night, and Miroku's fingers were a little cold.  
  
Finally judging himself to be far enough away, he gingerly opened the pitcher and took a tentative swig.  
  
The alcohol hit his soft palate like a bitter wave, causing him to choke and splutter for a moment before he was able to swallow the majority of the mouthful. It landed sourly in his stomach, and Miroku would have thrown the entire container away in disgust if a sudden feeling of warmth suffusing his body hadn't stayed his hand. Curiously, he studied the clear liquid inside before taking another gulp. And then another.  
  
When he'd awoken the next day, the young monk-in-training was covered in dew; his mouth was completely dry and a little fuzzy, his head was pounding, and some small creature had relieved itself in his nose in the middle of the night. Groaning, he'd rolled over and tossed up the remaining sake that his body had refused to absorb, along with the scraps of last night's dinner. A few feet away on a tree stump, Mushin had grunted, looking unimpressed with the boy's first hangover. Miroku would have wondered how long the old man had been sitting there, watching him sleep in the morning dew, but that sort of thing did not seem important. Far more pressing was the sensation that the top of his head was about to fall off.  
  
He'd vowed to never drink sake again, but that vow, like so many he had made, was one that entirely failed to stick. There were many other brushes with the bottle, and Miroku swore off the drink on many an occasion, only to forget the vow when the dam holding back the river of emotion threatened to break and the bitter rice wine – and the escape it represented – began to look better than a woman. Still, no other experience with the drink had reproduced that first thrilling sensation of being without care or worry, of being free of his future. None had reproduced the feeling he'd had when first he'd sipped from that secret sake.  
  
Until now, that is. Miroku forged ahead through the underbrush of the forest that surrounded his group's small encampment, Kagome's right hand firmly held in his left, and his entire body felt loose and relaxed. He would have sworn that he could hear his veins buzzing, and his mind was sinking into a delightful pink fog where nothing else really mattered except the delicious, almost velvety press of Kagome's palm against his own. She was making small, enjoyable noises of consternation as her free hand came up every other step to brush away the branches that clung to her hair and skin. Miroku found he couldn't blame them. She was a lovely distraction. Kagome was far more interesting than his future, far more intriguing to him than the weights that pressed down on his soul, day in and day out, and never left him alone... except for now. He felt suspiciously light, as though his bones had turned hollow in his sleep, or as though his heavy heart had vanished from his chest.  
  
Right now, Miroku felt completely free of all that. It was as though his eyes had been opened, as though all the things he feared had been removed, and all his troubles had been passed onto someone else. _And good riddance,_ he'd reflected happily. Vaguely, at the back of his mind, a tiny, uppity voice was prodding him insistently, reminding the monk that he felt _extremely_ odd for someone who hadn't been imbibing alcohol, but Miroku wasn't in any sort of mood to take any back-talk from voices in his head that sounded annoyingly sane. He wrapped the little voice in pink fog as well, letting a smile crawl onto his countenance when it decided to shut up and go with the flow. All in all, he decided, he was pleased. This felt _good._  
  
No, it felt better than good. It felt intoxicating. It felt as though he had achieved enlightenment, as though he had touched upon the true epiphany whilst drifting through his dreams, and now he was reaping the pure, unadulterated ecstasy of knowing the hidden mysteries of the universe.   
  
So much had remained hidden from him, apparently. Knowing his fate, knowing he must follow his path of vengeance out of duty and love, had kept him blinded and imprisoned. Care and devotion had shackled him. But none of that seemed to matter now.  
  
Miroku wanted to giggle out loud, to shout to the stars, to let his feet dance against the earth, to take flight and soar above the tree tops that towered overhead. He wanted to do everything he'd ever held back from, out of fear or responsibility or tattered virtue. Those obstacles just seemed silly now, mere obstructions of thought. He didn't need them any longer, now that he had nothing to worry about. Around his brain, a million thoughts streaked and fizzed, flashing beautifully against the darkness of his head. Miroku couldn't help it.  
  
He laughed, into the darkness, and it sounded like the flapping of wings.  
  
The monk pursed his lips and sucked in a deep breath, still forging forward, looking for a good place to alight and talk to the girl who had so willingly agreed to come with him. She had fallen silent, almost as though she were deep in thought – Miroku pretended that he could hear the soft whispers of ideas nestled in her mind – but since she made no complaint, he hurried on. His skin felt tight and itchy, and the sooner he could stop running and inhale deeply and fully, the better. He felt like he hadn't breathed in years; it seemed to him he had been suffocating for a century. And now he was free.  
  
Without warning, the two figures crashed into a clearing, not unlike the one they had left behind, and Miroku was finally able to lean on his staff and take deep, cleansing lungfuls of air. Off to his side and slightly behind him, he heard Kagome wheezing, trying to force oxygen into her body after the mad dash through the forest. When he turned to look at her, her beautiful face was red and she was bent over, propping one hand on her knees and gulping down air. Her other hand was still entwined with his.  
  
He gave it a little squeeze. Normally he wouldn't have done such a thing, but tonight... why not? It seemed like the right thing to do.  
  
She turned her head to look at him, still unable to speak, and he gave her the most reassuring smile he could dredge up. "Gomen, Kagome-sama," he found himself saying, "but I wished to talk to you in private."  
  
She just nodded, and spoke between gasps. "Well..." she said, "...this certainly... is... private..."  
  
Miroku felt his smile grow wider. Yes, it was a good idea to bring her here, and this feeling was so wonderful, he hoped that time would stand still, and they could stay there forever.  
  
And if time didn't stand still, he hoped he would not have a hangover in the morning.  
  
***  
  
Kagome was having difficulties properly apprehending the situation she appeared to find herself in. She hadn't been fully awake when Miroku had started to drag her through the underbrush, and even the subsequent slight increase in speed toward... well, wherever they were... hadn't fully jostled her awake. It was amazing how tired she was for someone who'd spent most of the day being carried around by men of varying demonic ancestry, but she could still feel the thick fog of sleep trying to retake her mind despite the monk's quickening pace.  
  
Unfortunately, she hadn't really had the chance to find a nice spot for a little lie down as Miroku, clearly under the impression that she was an Olympic sprinter, had sped up, and now she was quite awake, though excessively cranky and out-of-breath. For the second time that day, Kagome wished that every boy came with his own subduing rosary. But it was a useless wish; now there were other problems at hand, such as now she was in the middle of the wilderness, and alone with a perverted monk. Why did everyone insist on taking her to secluded clearings? Why not out for a nice lunch?   
  
_At hand..._ The phrase she had mentally uttered seemed to echo in her head. _At hand..._ speaking of which, Kagome glanced along her arm to see her fingers still tangled with Miroku's. The moon was peeking through the trees, high above her, and in the strange, silvery half-light, their hands looked strange to be so entwined. He had long, capable fingers, and they were squeezing just a little too tightly – she held hers loosely, and the callouses on her thumb and forefinger, reminders of her bow, looked deformed, even grotesque, against the symmetry of his hand. Kagome suddenly felt uncomfortable, looking at her hand held in his. She glanced up to see Miroku staring at the sky through the branches; he looked enraptured with the night.  
  
Discreetly, she began to disengage their hands.  
  
She didn't get very far.  
  
The man in front of her glanced down and stared at her face. She watched as slowly an expression of delighted surprised seeped into his features, lighting up his eyes as though he had only at that precise moment recognized her. Quickly, he captured both her hands in his left hand before reaching down with his other hand and gathering her upper body to him, all the while keeping that look of amazement plastered onto his face. Except...  
  
Kagome frowned. It seemed to her that as soon as his sealed hand touched her, an expression of slight annoyance had passed over his face, but it had faded so quickly that she wondered if she had just imagined it.  
  
The slight flicker of expression was soon forgotten, however. Instead of happily asleep in her sleeping bag, dreaming of oden, Kagome found herself, still out of breath, alone in the wilderness, being held firmly against Miroku's chest while his other hand held both of hers captive. She was breathing heavily, and the damn monk didn't help the situation by deciding to softly stroke a thumb across her knuckles, all the while gazing intently into her face with those wide, enlightened eyes.  
  
Kagome squirmed. "Miroku-sama – " she began.  
  
"Kagome-sama," he breathed.  
  
It was _deja-vu._ Not ten hours ago, Kouga had whispered her name in the same way, but unlike Kouga, Miroku didn't seem feverish or sick or strange or drunk – he didn't seem violent, either.  
  
_"Kagome! You must come with me! Without you, I cannot defeat Naraku, and we cannot be together!"  
  
"Kouga-kun!" she'd cried, twisting frantically, trying to disengage his grip from her upper arms – his fingers were digging in, painfully pulling her muscles apart, and the crazed look in his eyes told her that he was beyond the reach of her voice. He was trembling, and shaking her so hard her head was whipping back and forth, her neck snapping with pain._  
  
It's not him, it's not him, it's not him, _she'd thought, repeating it like a litany, a desperate prayer...  
  
But she knew better._  
  
"Kagome-sama?"  
  
Her attention snapped back to the present. There was no Kouga, only Miroku. Kagome shook her head, trying to clear it of the bizarre memories that didn't seem real, except for the bruises patterned on her skin. Miroku was looking down at her, concerned, as if waiting for her to answer.  
  
"H– hai, Miroku-sama?" she said, as strongly as possible. She was still gasping a little bit.  
  
His features melted into a smile, and he opened his mouth. "Kagome-sama, how do you feel tonight?"  
  
Kagome blinked. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn't small talk. But deeply ingrained manners overrode any comment she could make.  
  
"I'm okay, I suppose, although a little sleepy. And you?" she said automatically, then mentally kicked herself. _How about, What are we doing here, Miroku-sama? What the hell is wrong, houshi-sama? Why are you looking at me like that?_ she thought. _Just say it!_  
  
But Miroku spoke before she could put a voice to any of the myriad of thoughts sparking behind her eyes. "I feel great, Kagome-sama," he returned. "Better than I ever have before." He paused and seemed to think about what he'd just said before giving a little nod of satisfaction, apparently pleased with his response.  
  
Kagome was speechless. _No, really, what's going on?_ she wanted to ask him, but what came out of her mouth was, "Oh, how wonderful!"  
  
If possible, the monk's grin stretched even wider. "Yes," he replied. "Yes, it is wonderful." The arm around her tightened ever so slightly.  
  
This was getting a little too intimate for Kagome's taste. "Ne, Miroku-sama, why are we out here?"she blurted, seeking to distract him from the fact that they were pressed up against each other, in a secluded spot, on a dark night beneath the moon.   
  
Pulling back a little bit, he stared intently into her face. "Kagome-sama," he said. "I have something to ask of you."  
  
Echoes of that afternoon. A wisp of fear curdled in her stomach. Kagome swallowed hard. "H– hai?"  
  
Suddenly, his face grew very serious, his eyebrows drawing down, shadowing his enlightened eyes. "Kagome-sama..."  
  
Inwardly, Kagome tapped her foot. _"Hai?"_  
  
"Will you please bear my child?"  
  
Kagome stopped her mental foot-tapping, unused to being struck dumb twice in the space of two minutes. Shock overrode any coherent response. _"WHAT?"_ she cried, jerking away from him, but she might as well have been held by steel for all the good it did her. "You woke me up to tell me jokes?"  
  
But the expression of deadly seriousness did not lift from his features, and she suddenly felt very cold. "No, Kagome-sama. I am asking you to bear my child. I need an heir, and soon, and you are the most worthy woman to give it to me."  
  
_Out of hand, out of hand,_ she thought incoherently. "Miroku, what about Sango?" she demanded. "Don't you care for her? I thought you asked her to be with you!" Kagome could hear her voice rising in pitch, just a hint of hysteria edging it.   
  
For a moment, she thought she saw a flicker of pain in his eyes before it passed and once again he was staring earnestly at her. "Ah, Sango," he sighed. "Sango is a good friend, and I wished to be with her..." He trailed off, staring over her left shoulder.  
  
Kagome waited for a minute, watching his eyes gently lose focus, before speaking again. "And...?" she prompted.  
  
The man pressed against her jumped, as though coming back from a long way away, and smiled. "And she cannot help me defeat Naraku."  
  
Kagome frowned. "That's ridiculous, she's a much better fighter than I – "   
  
Miroku cut her off by jerking her tightly to his chest and leaning down slightly to speak to her, letting his warm breath wash over her ear. "She is strong, but she does not have your powers," he said. "I couldn't defeat our enemy with just her by my side. She is only human, but you are a priestess. You can help me, and you can bear a strong heir should I fail."  
  
Kagome wanted to cry out and shake her head and slap some sense into him. _No, he_ loves _Sango._ She thought she could hear a strange desperation in his voice. She would have never dreamed that he would act this way, not in a century. _I'm not here, and this isn't happening,_ she thought giddily. _He meant to take Sango with him. He's afraid of commitment. He doesn't know what he's saying..._  
  
He _did_ know what he was saying, though. She could see the knowledge in his eyes, as if he had gained a sick, horrible sort of freedom. He looked like a man on the edge of a cliff, waiting for that gust of wind that would push him over and into the rocks below.  
  
She shook her head, trying to disentangle herself from the prison of his embrace. "No, you love Sango," she told him, hopelessly. "You love her and want to have a family with her."  
  
"No!" Startled, Kagome stopped struggling. He looked almost angry as his gaze bore down on her, a fire in his eyes flaring. "No, she is no longer the future. There is no future now," he told her, his teeth clenching and his voice coming out as a hiss.  
  
The world was racing away from her, and Kagome struggled to keep up. "What do you mean?" she whispered. "How can you say that? You're asking me to make a future with you!"  
  
Miroku stopped breathing, and looked off into the distance. "You're right," he said, after a moment. "You're right."  
  
_Is he listening to sense?_ Kagome thought incredulously. It would probably be the first time in his life if he did.  
  
"There is no need for you to bear my child. That is not something I need," he continued. The hand holding hers tightened perceptibly. "Help me defeat Naraku, Kagome-sama, and I can be free."  
  
The words coming out of his mouth made no sense to her. For the third time, she was reminded of Kouga, but it was the addendum that worried her. "Free of what?" she wanted to know, but he just shook his head gently, as if to say that his secrets were his own, and that she would be better off not knowing.  
  
"Defeat him with me, and we can part ways."  
  
Kagome's stomach turned to lead. "What are you talking about?" she said quietly. "Why would you want to part ways?"  
  
"Because..." he said, his voice almost on the edge of cracking, and a sharp feeling of pain lanced through her heart; she had never seen him like this, seen his face calm, but his soul trembling. She reached up and stroked a stray lock of hair back from his cheek, tucking it gently behind his ear.  
  
"Because why?" she asked.  
  
He closed his eyes, letting his head drop to her shoulder. "Because then I can forget," he told her.  
  
She didn't understand, but that was all right. She didn't need to understand – she just needed to let him know that he wasn't alone, that she could help him through this. She could embrace him and love him back to himself, so he could see what madness he was speaking, what foolishness it would be to abandon love and friendship and the circle of warmth that was their bond –   
  
Kagome got no further in her thoughts, though, because Miroku chose that moment to give her something she had never expected: her first kiss.  
  
She hadn't even seen him coming, hadn't felt the smooth whisper of cheek against cheek as he brought his lips to hers from their resting place on her shoulder, so when she felt them, soft and gentle, and saw his own face, eyes closed and expression sweet, she was too startled to do anything. And then a slow, tingling feeling began to pool in the pit of her stomach, spreading slow, languorous warmth through her limbs, causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up and the muscles to collapse. She gasped in surprise.  
  
Sensing her consternation, Miroku chuckled against her, his deep, smooth voice vibrating against her skin, and he pushed her back into a tree, using its strength and his own arms to support her. In the back of her mind, Kagome was pathetically grateful that she would not be ending up, painfully collapsed, on the ground. The rest of her just struggled, inwardly, pleasure and discomfort, loyalty and sacrifice, while her hands rested on his arms, tangling themselves in his sleeves.  
  
It seemed to go on for a long while, but it could have been more than half a minute.  
  
He drew back and gazed into her eyes, a wide, impish smile gracing his lips, while she panted heavily, her mind roiling, her feelings circulating like pearl barley in a stew. She thought of kisses, and whom she wanted, and her horrified conscience slashed through the strange fog that surrounded her.  
  
_No... no, that can't have just happened..._ she thought, but the thoughts seemed distant and dark, not really illuminating anything about what had just occurred. Something soul deep in her shuddered at the memory of the moment, only seconds ago, that now seemed like something out of a dream. Her first kiss, and it hadn't been Inuyasha, hadn't been true love, had been Miroku, a friend, a confidant... and she'd liked it. She'd shivered in his arms, let him play with her.  
  
_That's not how it's supposed to be. It can't be this way._  
  
But it was. She burned with mortification. Did she really hold such feelings for Miroku, and had only been ignoring them? For how long?  
  
Was she really so inconstant? So disloyal to the one she loved?  
  
_Like the one you love is disloyal to you?_ a traitorous voice whispered.  
  
_No..._  
  
Little dancing shudders raced across her skin. Kagome wanted to hide her face away and never look anyone in the eye ever again.  
  
"Why...?" she asked, but her voice was barely a whisper.  
  
Miroku didn't answer, and Kagome wondered if he'd even heard. He was still staring down at her, smiling that ridiculous smile. "Don't worry, Kagome-sama, I will give you time to think about it. For now, let us return to the others. You may follow me through the forest, and I will lead you back safely." A hand stole up to her face, caressing her cheek, and Kagome didn't have the presence of mind to pull away. Something in his eyes softened before he abruptly turned.  
  
"Come, Kagome-sama," he said over his shoulder as he started back in the direction they had come, leaving her slumped heavily against the tree, the bark biting into her back, reminding her that this wasn't a dream, that it was real.  
  
_Real..._ Kagome touched her cold fingers to her burning lips. _Why is he doing this to me?_ she thought, although even in her mind her voice was soft and despairing.   
  
_And what now?_  
  
***  
  
**A/N:** What now, indeed? Well, this chapter ended up being far more Miroku-intensive than I'd first planned, but that's okay. I seem to have quite a few Miroku fangirls reading this. But... what's up with Sango? And Inuysasha? And even dear little Shippou (whom I am trying to keep in the plot)? How are _they_ doing? Possibly to be covered in the next chapter, hopefully, if it doesn't run away with me. ^_^   
  
Once again, I love my reviewers SO MUCH and wish I could make babies with you all. Thanks goes out to **Kitty Neko** (new chapters: the reason to get out of bed!), **lynnxlady** (the dreams were probably my favorite part -- thanks for letting me know it worked!), **Ongaku** (*grin* thank you so much, I'm glad you enjoyed!), **kaa** (haha, another one caught in the net... soon my evil plan will be complete!), **rosin** (just call me Santa Claus), **Rourouni Star** (*fangirl moment* *GUSH* am so glad you liked!), **Horridporrid** (well, I don't know about you, but I definitely caught some Sango/Kouga... mmm, UST...), and **Sandra** (woman, I'll have you know that you are like a drunk clown on speed; I woke up, fully intending to go back to bed once I checked my mail - which turned out to be a tactical error because your review [BEST. REVIEW. EVAH.] was in my inbox and was so freaking awesome I ended up wide awake... you're better than coffee; also, I love you; and PH33R MY ANGZTY SKILLZ! IY angst not nearly as easy to write as HP angst... d'oh!)  
  
If you want to listen to me whine about writing this fic, check out my anime LiveJournal, where I announce updates, recommendations, and post little teasers and silly drabbles. My user name is ash_grey_sky. Friend me, for I am an LJ whore! 


	5. Chapter Five: Blame It on the Falling Sk...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Inuyasha. If I did, I could afford a better car.  
  
**Summary:** The darkest places are the places of the heart, and the darkest desires are those we don't know ourselves. The gang faces a new threat from Naraku – one that can destroy the bonds of affection and forever change their relationships.  
  
**Chapter Summary:** Naraku gets all plotty, Sango suddenly feels very weird, and Kagome considers committing hara-kiri.  
  
**Spoilers:** Very late in the manga. Basically an AU continuation of the series beginning at the end of manga volume 33, chapter 326. Why? I don't like rats. I'm avoiding them.  
  
**Warnings:** Haha! Darkfic and unresolved sexual tension are like bread and butter to me. This fic deals with some dark themes, and has more pairings, both canon and non-canon, than you'd be wise to shake a stick at. Yes. Lots and lots of pairings, some blatant, some implied. If you're looking for fluffy Inu/Kag action, this is not the place for you. Also, I realize that it says "romance" in the categories, but let's not kid ourselves: there will be no ripping of bodices here. Possibly a love story, but Sango is simply not swooning into the arms of the Dread Pirate Shippou. Just so we have that cleared up.  
  
**Credits:** The title comes from the song All My Little Words by The Magnetic Fields. It seemed appropriate.  
  


**_All My Little Words_  
by  
_Resmiranda_  
  
Chapter Five: Blame It on the Falling Sky**

  
  
_"I keep falling over,   
I keep passing out,   
when I see a face like you.  
What am I coming to?"_  
**-- Radiohead, _Black Star_**  
  
***  
  
Thick ropes of venomous fog wrapped around the temple, skulking in corners, creeping sullenly down the walls, sluggishly flowing across the ground. All around, the world heaved and died, for the miasma effectively suffocated anything that dared to live within its reach. The grass and trees had died, the birds had fallen, broken, to the earth, and small things, lost in the void of poison, had long ago given up their spirits. Even the sun seemed to flicker and wane through the swirling mist. It wiped the world clean of messy things, leaving only a landscape devoid of complications. Pure.  
  
Naraku let his gaze fall upon the barren world outside his relatively small sphere of influence and narrowed his eyes, a small smile gracing his lips. _Pure._ He alone had purified the chaotic earth surrounding his stronghold. No one else but he would consider that word in association with the poisoned world he had created, and there was satisfaction in that. Even his children could not comprehend what he had created.  
  
_This,_ he thought, taking in the greys and browns of the world around him, _is a work of art._ It was not a perfect blossom, nor was it the starkness of verse, nor the simple curve of ink against paper; it was the absence of these things. It was the absence of futile struggles to reduce the world into lines and words, it was the lack of striving to contain beauty in a word or a brush stroke. It was devoid.  
  
Clean. Blank. Perfect.  
  
Kanna was the only one of his children that might have begun to understand what he had achieved, but she was just as empty of emotions and thought as the dead world in front of him, and such was probably incapable of anything approaching appreciation. Hakudoushi was like him, and yet different. There was little he could do to control the personalities of his offspring, but it surprised him that the one most similar didn't seem to comprehend the wilting world around him. Only someone with both suffering and malice could understand...  
  
Unbidden, his thoughts turned to someone who knew both such emotions: that damned miko. Kikyou, the bane of his existence. She hadn't even been in the world between worlds, and still she had found a way to wound him. Hakudoushi had yet to recover fully, and the black hole in his chest was extremely unsightly.   
  
Naraku shut his eyes to the rising irritation, blocking out the delightful landscape in front of him. If he had possessed a sense of honor, the ignominy might have killed him. Just the memory made him angry – it had been the girl who shot the arrow, but the power had been Kikyou's, and it hadn't stopped in the half world; instead, her arrow had actually _followed_ him through the barrier, had wounded one of his detachments. The thought was almost unbearable, but even worse was the fact that the last shard was almost out of his reach, held by that damn reincarnation of the priestess who tormented him so much.  
  
"Hn." He permitted himself a small snort of laughter. _Almost._ That was the key, of course. It was only _almost_ out of his reach, and soon even that barrier would be broken down. The little girl with the face of the dead miko wouldn't last long under the assault; his only regret was that he wouldn't be there to witness her downfall as everything she loved crumbled beneath her, couldn't watch as she was pitched into darkness and doubt. It would be beautiful.  
  
He was looking forward with _great_ anticipation to finally meeting her, face-to-face, once more. It would be the end, of course – the fact that she held the last shard meant that the next time he lured her into his path, she would fall to him and he would take the last shard and complete his destiny.  
  
Just the thought of her despairing face when he finally became what he was meant to be made him wickedly gleeful. It was inevitable that the little miko would falter – it was only a matter of time, now that his reach had extended beyond his body and into others. Even now, she was surrounded by enemies and yet she knew nothing of it. She was powerful but uncontrolled, and so innocent that it almost seemed too easy to destroy her.   
  
Distantly, he wished he could take his time dismantling her, taking her apart piece by agonizing piece, but time was now, as always, of the essence. He could take the time to carry out his current plan, in motion for a little over twenty-four hours now – it was only tactically sound, after all – but he couldn't truly savor it. Perhaps if she survived their final encounter, he would find some way to make use of her; perhaps use Kikyou's inferior substitute as his first diversion... a celebration of sorts, perhaps.  
  
"Kanna."  
  
Behind him, the slow scraping and shuffling of feet betrayed the presence of his oldest child as she moved in the same, unhurried pace as she always did, no matter the urgency or stability of the situation. She felt no fear or desire, and always did as she was told. In many ways, she was his most perfect creation. Naraku watched her with a satisfied eye as she came into his field of vision, each step measured and even, as though she were perfectly centered and sure of herself. But then again, who knew what she felt inside the darkness of her own head?  
  
She stopped in front of him, her dark eyes seeming to pierce through his chest and out his back. He wondered if she could see the empty cavity where his heart had once hung, beating out its traitorous desires against his will.  
  
He narrowed his eyes, gazing at the mirror held in her white hands.  
  
"Show me the girl," he commanded.  
  
Kanna's hands shifted ever so slightly, bringing it out from her body and closer to him. Beneath the shining glass, the universe of the mirror began to emerge from the fog, gelling from the swirl of mist to reveal the miko, who was curled around the young fox kit beneath a blanket on the ground. Although the earth was thundering toward dawn it was still dark, but she was wide awake, staring at the sky, seemingly straight through the mirror and straight through him.  
  
She looked troubled and torn. A few feet away from her, the taiji-ya was dreaming of her lost brother.  
  
Naraku smiled.  
  
"Kohaku." His voice was sharp, and from the shadows, the boy emerged obediently.  
  
_Perfect._  
  
***  
  
Sango knew that she was dreaming, but it made no difference to her. Even when her dreams were just hideous reminders of how much she missed her family and her home, how far removed she had become from her old life, she was still loath to leave them behind and wake up to the world. After all, the reality outside the confines of her skull was just as cruel and pitiless as the fantasies she wove in her sleep, so there really didn't seem to be much point in forcing herself to open her eyes. She could be equally miserable whether she was awake or unconscious, and she needed her rest.  
  
_She was trapped in memory again, on a hillside outside their village.  
  
She and Kohaku were a little younger, and he was running away from her in the game that her father had devised in order to teach him evasive techniques. She could remember grumpily reflecting that he didn't need any help – he was quite good at running away, and laughing as he did so.  
  
Her breath was coming in quick, short bursts and her legs burned as she tried to keep up the sprinting pace she had set at the beginning of their chase, but her feet were coming down heavily in almost a stomping motion as ahead of her Kohaku continued to dash tirelessly through the long grass.  
  
She should be winning this. She was in better physical condition, and her legs were longer; also she would never, ever live it down if she let him escape her this time. He'd never won before, and she wasn't about to let him start now.  
  
Narrowing her eyes, Sango pushed all her energy into her legs, springing from the ground and into the air, working her limbs as fast as possible, covering the ground between them in one quick burst, not caring that her lungs were about to burst inside her chest. She had to reach him. She flung her hands from her body, searching for that one good handhold – a good handful of flesh, anywhere, and she would win.  
  
Kohaku glanced behind him and gave a cry; he had heard her swift approach, but had not noticed how close she was until it was too late. Unfortunately, he should have kept his eyes to his path; looking back had slowed him down, and as her hand closed around his shoulder, he tripped over a hidden rock, sending them both tumbling head over heels down the side of the hill.  
  
Sango's heart leapt into her throat and squeezed her eyes shut as they rolled down the steep embankment, seeking to wrap her arms around her brother and shield him from the harsh realities of the ground that pounded them.   
  
A loud crack and a sharp pain in her elbow told Sango that she had rolled against a rock, and had most likely fractured a bone. She fought the urge to cry out – it didn't matter, anyway. Kohaku was safe in the circle of her arms, his small hands on her chest, bracing himself against her as they endlessly tumbled, over and over.  
  
It seemed forever until they reached the bottom and she came to rest beneath him, the brutality of the beating she had just received effectively immobilizing her. She gasped for air, trying to overcome the sharp stabs of pain in her back and arms; even the more fleshy parts of her seemed bruised, beaten black and blue from the unforgiving hillside.  
  
"Unnng," she groaned, her eyes still tightly shut.  
  
"Aneue!" Kohaku cried, squirming in her arms as he struggled to free himself from her vise-like grip on him. She loosened her fingers enough for him to unfold them from his torso and roll off her. "Gomen!" he gasped as he landed next to her prone figure, propping himself on shaking arms. The adrenaline from the chase and the fall was coursing through him, but otherwise he seemed unharmed. The same could not be said of his sister.  
  
Sango slowly regained her breath and opened her eyes to see Kohaku staring at her as concern radiated from his entire posture. "Aneue?" he asked hesitantly.  
  
"I'll be okay," she said, although her voice was strained. She was fairly sure she had twisted something, and her shoulders and back felt like she'd been trampled by a herd of horses. "I'll be fine."  
  
Kohaku bit his lip and nodded. "Do you think you can stand?" he asked her.  
  
She gave him a small smile and slowly sat up, wincing as she did so. "I think I can manage," she bit out through clenched teeth. Imagine, all that time spent killing youkai, and she had been brought low by her brother, on a hillside blanketed in flowers.  
  
Kohaku helped her find her feet, and supported her with an arm around her waist as she leaned on his thin shoulders, her hand resting on his chest. By the time they had arrived back at the village, she was walking on her own, although she was still in a large amount of pain. Her father had shaken his head and let Kohaku deal with the aftermath of their adventure.   
  
Kohaku didn't mind. He'd clucked over her like a mother hen, running his fingers over her skin as he checked her bruises and sprains, but eventually, after a thorough investigation, he'd declared her fit enough to rest for the remainder of the day, and she had gratefully laid herself down, drifting in and out of sleep.  
  
The next morning she had awoken and found Kohaku curled up next to her, their arms draped around each other, and she had smiled in the purity of the morning._  
  
Sango opened her eyes. Something was not quite right with the world, but whatever it was that her sleeping mind had detected, she could not sense it now. She could almost feel the warmth of her brother in her arms, but it was an illusion, and oddly it did not upset her.  
  
She sat up and frowned, shaking her head in the cold grey pre-dawn light. She felt... fine, actually. She put a hand to her temple, as if to shake herself into the sadness that she knew always emanated from her memories, but it seemed a silly gesture, and she lowered it again. Why should she want to feel sad? It was a ridiculous thing to want when she felt as though there was something heavy missing from her mind.  
  
Sango was hit with a wave of dizzying freedom. It was as though her mind was a sheet of fabric, and in the middle had been a heavy lead weight, pulling it down, sucking all her thoughts into its vortex, but suddenly it had been removed. She was light again, floating in the air, without burden. It was enough to make her give a small, desperate laugh. The corners of her mouth turning up in a smile, although the muscles seemed rusty and disused.  
  
"Sango-chan?"  
  
Sango turned to the sound of the voice. For a moment, she didn't recognize the girl in the sleeping bag, only a few feet away, but then something clicked into place and she remembered. "Kagome-chan."  
  
The girl in the sleeping bag smiled. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost tentatively, and Sango was reminded of many, many nights when she had woken up from a dream that troubled her – funny, she couldn't seem to remember them now – and the girl had comforted her.  
  
Sango smiled. "I'm fine," she replied, lifting a hand to her hair to pull her fingers through it. And she _did_ feel fine. She felt good, actually. Vainly, she tried to remember the last time she felt this good, without some horrible depression or free-floating anxiety stabbing at her heart, and she couldn't remember.  
  
It seemed strange that she should have been unhappy for so long. Everything was fine. Wasn't it? There was something, far in the back of her mind, telling her that it wasn't fine, that nothing was okay. Sango frowned and pushed it away. What did it know? She felt great, and it was another beautiful morning. She felt more well-rested than she had in what seemed to be forever, and the probability that there would be some ass to kick later seemed high. She even had a fiancé, of sorts, sleeping against a tree across the clearing, and she loved him. They were going to triumph over whatever stood in their path, and then, after they had erased the past, they would settle down and have a family and grow old together in the warm circle of love and family. They would be happy.  
  
Sango turned her face to the rising sun. All in all, she had a bright future in front of her, and it was going to be a glorious day.  
  
***  
  
Kagome was not at all happy or looking forward to the future. She watched from her supine position as Sango glanced over at Miroku, who was still asleep against his tree, and she had seen something warm and hopeful flash in her eyes. It made Kagome sick to her stomach. She was hit with a powerful wave of nausea as she looked at her friend's optimistic face.  
  
Kagome swallowed, tasting bile, feeling it burn her throat.  
  
She had betrayed her friend. She was a traitor. How could Sango not see it written all over her face? She'd kissed Sango's intended and hadn't pushed him away. In a way, it was worse than what she felt when she looked at Inuyasha – they at least were not pledged to each other; she was free in theory, if not in practice. But to have kissed Miroku, thereby betraying a friend as well as her own heart... it didn't bear thinking about. She looked away, avoiding Sango's clear gaze.  
  
She didn't want to, but her eyes strayed to the figure of the monk, still propped against his tree trunk; he seemed to radiate calm and composure, even in sleep. Kagome felt a flash of anger at Miroku – how could he possibly sleep when he had done something so repulsive? It was enough to make her scream. She hadn't even been the one to initiate the kiss, and yet she was the one who hadn't been able to go back to sleep, instead laying cold and hollow on the ground, alternately wrestling with her feelings and going completely numb.   
  
But that wasn't the worst of it. The worst part about the whole thing was that she had enjoyed it, and that knowledge alone kept her from telling Sango of Miroku's wandering attentions; she didn't know if she could look Sango in the eye and tell her what had happened without also submitting to her fundamental honesty and confessing that she had liked it as well.  
  
Kagome was miserable. Her first kiss had been a travesty, and now the world was on its ear. That one act – just a touching of the lips! – had suddenly changed everything between her and her friends, save Shippou, who slumbered on peacefully, unaware of her inner turmoil.  
  
Sighing, Kagome looked at the sky, lightening through the leaves. It was pretty much pointless to try and sleep now, she determined, and so she emerged from her cocoon to rummage around in her bag for something for breakfast. Perhaps if she kept her hands busy, she could forget that she was the worst friend alive and should go drown herself honorably in a lake.  
  
She was so busy that she almost missed it, but it was so close that it made ignoring it nearly impossible. It was weird, feeling the shards come closer to her; it was like someone had opened up the top of her skull and blew on her naked brain. It was a sign of how preoccupied she was that she didn't immediately realize the significance of it.  
  
"There's a shikon shard coming this way, but very slowly," she said when Sango gave her a questioning look.  
  
"Only one?" Kagome jumped. She thought Miroku had been fast asleep, but evidently not. He had spoken but had not yet opened his eyes, a small mercy for which Kagome was extremely grateful. She didn't want to look at him, and didn't want him to look at her either.  
  
"Kagome-chan?" Sango's voice cut in. "There's only one shard?"  
  
"Y-yes," she replied, staring down at her hands, which were twining the strap of her backpack around and around her palms and wrists, before the gravity of what she had said hit her.   
  
"Kohaku-kun," she blurted out. Her head shot up, glancing pensively at Sango and then Miroku.  
  
Something in their faces stilled her twisting, nervous fingers.  
  
His thick black brows drawn down over his eyes, Miroku was staring off into the distance. He didn't look anxious or concerned at all; instead he looked rather annoyed, as though he had forgotten something and was now inconvenienced by its discovered absence. That was strange enough. Usually the monk would radiate concern and care, and would do his best to comfort and reassure Sango. But it looked like Sango didn't need that right now. Instead, she looked almost angry; her hands had balled themselves into fists at her sides, her lips had thinned down to a single line as the skin around her mouth turning white from the pressure, and her shoulders had hunched as though she were curving her body inward, away from the world, ready to spring.  
  
Tentatively, Kagome took a step toward her friend. "Sango-chan?" she asked, her voice timid.  
  
Sango didn't even do her the courtesy of answering her. Instead, she turned her heel and stomped off through the woods, in the direction of the small stream they had passed by the other day.  
  
The clearing was quiet in her wake. "Ano," Kagome ventured. "I... I'll go after her," she said, when it seemed Miroku was not going to leap to the rescue. She waited a moment longer to see if he was going to contradict her, but when he gave an uncharacteristic snort, she brushed past him and followed Sango's retreating figure.  
  
The dew on the branches was cold. The branches themselves were sharp. The ground was muddy, the air was chilly, and Kagome wanted to cry. This was probably one of the worst days of her life, and the sun hadn't even risen yet. She'd betrayed a friend, found a faint, but disturbing attraction to another one, and now her friend's undead brother was coming in their direction and would no doubt try to kill someone. It was just a bad day all around.  
  
Randomly, Kagome wished for a bubble bath. And candy. Anything to make this day better. Unfortunately, a bubble-bath and candy distributing fairy was entirely failing to materialize, so she forged on bravely to go talk to the girl she couldn't even look in the eye.  
  
Eventually she found Sango crouched by the stream and sluicing her face with the cold water. The shard was still a mile away, but it was still approaching at a steady rate. They didn't have a lot of time.  
  
_Now or never._ "Sango-chan?" she asked.  
  
Sango ceased her ministrations, but didn't turn around.  
  
Taking a few steps forward, Kagome opened her mouth again, probably to ask if Sango was okay, or if she needed a hug, or maybe just some inane platitude, but she never got that chance.  
  
"Kagome-chan," Sango said sharply. "I need you to do something for me." She still didn't look around, but the trembling line of tension in her shoulders seemed to have melted a little bit.  
  
Kagome ran forward and crouched down next to her, risking a sidelong look at the girl next to her. She no longer seemed angry. Instead there was a look of determination on her face as she gazed down into the swiftly flowing water. "Of course," she said, looking away again. "Anything you need, Sango. You know you only have to ask."  
  
Sango gave a small snort. "Good," she said, and turned to Kagome. "Look at me."  
  
With great effort, Kagome raised her eyes to the face of her friend, nearly gasping with the sudden, unexpected punch of guilt in her stomach. She hoped her voice didn't sound as uncertain as she felt, for like her voice, her spirit felt as though it would crack beneath the slightest weight.  
  
"Yes?" she asked, surprisingly strong.  
  
Sango's eyes narrowed, and for the briefest of moments, Kagome was reminded of Kikyou; she seemed to be slightly harder, more calculating than usual, but Kagome blinked, and the moment was gone. "Listen very carefully," Sango said. "When we find my brother, I need you to do something for me. I don't know if I can do it myself, so I need you to help me."  
  
Something tickled Kagome, at the base of her skull, sending a cold shiver down her spine, foreboding shuddering through her limbs, causing the hair on her body to stand up on end.  
  
"What?" she asked, almost a whisper.  
  
Sango's eyes dropped.   
  
"I need you to kill him."  
  
***  
  
**A/N -** Damn, this was an annoying chapter to write. Next time, there will possibly be some action, and maybe another character will emerge from the shadows where they are hiding.  
  
And I live on reviews. They are like water to me! Thanks to **Rurouni Star** (and I love you; hmmm, I'm getting the urge to continue to write, just for you... ^_~), **Ongaku** (thanks!), **Kitty Neko** (tee! thank you!), **rosin** (love is indeed like a bottle of gin), **ismene** (patience, my pet... Shippou/Hiten may be written just for you!), **Crazygurl70** (CREEPY UNHUMAN THINGS are teh r0xx0r, ne?), **Simply Turquoise** (aaaaaah, M/K... a very interesting idea... promise not to kill me if it's not? not that it's really one way or the other at this point...), and **Little Bratt** (*blush* thanks for the compliment, and thanks for reading!).  
  
If you want to listen to me whine about writing this fic, check out my anime LiveJournal, where I announce updates, recommendations, and post little teasers and silly drabbles. My user name is ash_grey_sky. Friend me, for I am an LJ whore! 


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